


Nascent

by techbilt



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: AU, Character Death, Mechpreg, Other, Sparklings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 14:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12866040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/techbilt/pseuds/techbilt
Summary: An AU of one of the universes I used to RP in after some thinking and chatting having been done.  It's just a story about Betrayal and making new friends.  After Prowl is demoted because a rouge wants to be SIC, and Prime gives in to her demands, he joins up with Lockdown.  Now he is a wanted deserter attempting to get through the war in one piece with surprise after surprise hitting them one after the other.-- canceled, the person I was writing this with isn't around anymore.





	1. The Target

**Author's Note:**

> Discplaimer: The characters are all based off muses others write, SInce I am not the mun of those accounts, this is my own interpretation of their muses.

This was war.  This wasn’t Prowl first time in the field in such a situation.  Things were dim, new players had been added to the Autobot side in order to win the war.  It was a good thing too, their numbers were dwindling and their morale was low.  Elita and her team would hopefully change that though all it seemed to do was give Elita more power, which in turn gave the Decepticons more juice for their propaganda on how Autobots felt about the caste system.  Elita forcing herself as SIC in return for helping the Autobots would mean that all of Autobot command was filled by high caste players.  Prowl had been on the fast track to SIC, he had been a Tier 6 - two levels above the bottom.  He would have been the lowest caste officer the Autobots had ever had.

 

That was part of the reason he had requested a mission like this.  He needed to blow off steam.  Having what would have been proving their ideologies torn away from them because Elita thought she was the end all be all didn’t sit right with him.  He was still angry the post he had been working hard for was taken from him by someone they hardly knew, and hardly trusted, but he was more angry that the ‘Cons had started using it as propaganda fuel.  Optimus Prime: Tier 1, Prime.  Elita-1 : Tier 2, Previously Councilor current SIC, Ultra Magnus: Tier 3, TIC, Jazz: Tier 3, So far every one with in command was tier 3 or higher.  Prowl was certain that 98% of the Decepticons were Tier 6 or below.

 

This was a solo-mission and Prowl was glad for that, he was in a worse mood than usual.  People didn’t tend to like him when he was in a _good_ mood.  This mech so far had been easy to track, a sloppy mess here, a ped imprint there, and Prowl was hot on his tail as he was headed toward the ruins of Tyger Pax.

 

He finally caught glimpse of the mech the Autobots were looking for, he had been able to put his tracking skills to work and finally catch up with the mech.  He had valuable information regarding the Decepticons and Optimus Prime was willing to make it worth his while to stay on their side for a little bit, and give them all the information they needed.

 

Prowl glanced up to the sky hearing a non-familiar noise.  It sounded like flight engines, he had read reports from those under his command who had spotted a bounty hunter of sorts that piloted a ship who would work for whoever paid more.  Prowl was miffed such careers still existed but they were hardly a civilized planet anymore.  1 million years into war and their planet was slowly going grey.

 

He wasn’t keen on meeting the fellow who piloted the ship - nor did he really want to share the mech either.  He just wanted to bring the mech back or at the very least just get information from him.  He wasn’t sure if this mech was on his side or if this Bounty Hunter wanted the mech dead or not.  Prowl needed him alive.

Prowl watched as the Bounty Hunter landed his ship in front of him.  Likely scaring the Bounty away in the process. Prowl hummed, knowing he likely would have done the same thing had he the resources to pull it off and the competition was closer to getting the target than he was.  Dust was kicked up as the ship creaked and howled as its weight settled and its engines went silent.

 

Prowl sighed, annoyed that tall the tracking he had done was for naught.  This idiot had scared off their target and Prowl was now going to have to work against not only the clock but this asshole too.  This was not turning out to be a good day.  At all.

 

Prowl stood, his weight leaning on his left leg, his hip pointed toward the ship as the paneling covering the ramp decompressed with a loud release of air.  Prowl rested his hands on his hips as the ramp slowly descended, the Praxian made sure to stand at the very end of the ramp once it stopped descending from the ship. 

 

Prowl could immediately tell the color scheme of the other, green and black.  There were a few things that Prowl could tell about the mech exiting the ship in front of him.  One: He looked like he could take on a whole swat team if he really wanted.  Two: He had a hook for a hand - obviously it hadn’t been a clean break, Prowl could tell where his original frame ended and the new paneling started.  It was also a different color than the rest of his frame. 

 

Prowl almost growled at the other as he started making his way down the ramp, “Who the frag do you think you are?”  He was angry with the other, he had been so close to getting that other mech into Autobot Custody to getting information that he could use to win the war!

 

“Whoa there officer,” started the mystery mech, his voice rough, he sounded much like a gladiator, the Kaonite accent was thick.  He had probably been a part of the disposables class.  “Didn’t mean to spoil your fun.”

 

Prowl just stood there, his mouth agape as he attempted to figure out what to say to the other.  The other slowly walked down the ramp, toward the officer whose wing doors were angled up high and his aggravation levels were climbing every time the other took a step forward.

 

“Names Lockdown kid, and it seems you and I are after the same mech.”

 

“Back off ‘Con,” stated Prowl as he got a good look at the other, he felt his spark flutter finding the mech attractive but knew there was no way in the pit they would ever work out.

 

“Me?  A Decepticon?  No.  I’m just a Bounty Hunter,” answered Lockdown his voice low and rumbling.  “And you officer friendly?”

 

Prowl glanced to his old Praxian Police decals on his wings and he knew there was one on his chest, though in the middle instead of a police decal there was an Autobot Symbol.  “What are you doing here?”

 

“Same as you I reckon, after a mecha with information,” answered Lockdown.  Prowl could see the smirk painted on the taller mechs face as he made a complete stop a foot away from Prowl.  Under normal circumstances it was probably normal that the taller mech might get a scared reaction from someone shorter than him, but not from Prowl.  He had been described as Feisty.  He had taken on the Prime, he had argued with Elita-fragging-One.  Lockdown was a walk in the park compared to going head to head with Elita.

 

So he was after the same mech as him.  This mecha was someone Megatron didn’t want falling into Autobot servos.  He must have one pit of a heavy price on his dainty little head.  Especially his this Bounty Hunter was after him.  And where one Bounty hunter was after a mech there were bound to be other looking for the target for the reward. 

 

Prowl stared into the deep red optics of the taller mech, as his digit ran across his jaw line.  The feeling sent a tingling sensation down his back struts.  It was an odd feeling not one that he should probably have felt for someone who he was supposed to be leaving behind to chase after the target that was no doubt running away.

 

With Lockdowns finger holding Prowls chip up so Prowl couldn’t look away another ship could be heard approaching.  This time it was an Autobot bounty hunter, Devcon if Prowl remembered correctly.  “So you’re okay with Devcon getting away with my target?”

 

Lockdown looked up and scowled before removing his hand from Prowls chin.  His spark fell when the other lost contact with his frame.  “I think you mean my target, Officer Friendly.”

 

The bounty hunter grinned and winked to the Autobot officer before he ran up his ship with the ramp returning to its home settled under the cargo bay door.  Prowl would have a bit of a head start as he Transformed and drove off to where his target had run off two.  Lockdown and Devcon might have had ships on their side with big fancy instruments but Prowl had has intuition and he didn’t have to wait for the lift off engines to get enough propulsion to chase after the target.

 

Prowl wasn’t the first one there to get the target, that honor belonged to Devcon.  He had somehow found a place to park his ship and was currently working on wrestling the target to the ground.  Prowls engine was steaming hot, condensation running down his chest plates as he attempted to figure out the best way to get the target while getting Devcon away from him.  He and Devcon might be on the same side but he needed to bring the target in - he had had his position taken from him by her merely demanding it.  Threatening to not help unless she got what she wanted like the high caste toddler she seemed to be.  Catching this target?  No one was going to tear that victory from his servos.  Not even a mecha that wore an Autobot badge but didn’t fight on alongside them.

 

Prowl launched himself at Devcon, only barely taking him down.  Had he done any more calculating to make it work he would have missed the bounty hunter.  The two feel to the ground with a clatter.  Devcon growled attempting to pry Prowl off him.  Prowl glanced up to the target as he ran from the two Autobots and toward where Lockdown was taking his ship.  Prowl let out a growl this time, giving Devcon one last punch before getting up and going after the target.

 

Prowl attempted to run after the target only to be stopped by the mecha he had tackled to the ground moments before.  He fell to the ground with a large thud and metallic ringing as hit metal met with the metal of Cybertrons ground.  He glanced back to Devcon his blue optics lit up in fury, “Some Autobot you are _commander.”_

 

Prowl could feel the heat of the others anger and the electricity of his fury travel between the two conduction materials.  Prowl kicked at Devcons hand holding his ped, a wince from Devcon and a few more strategic kicks before he kicked Devcon in the face, he had attempted to crawl closer to Prowl hold him down, make him pay for getting in the way of the target.  With the last kick to the face plates Devcon let go of the commander, a cracked optic and a couple swearwords could be heard as Prowl hastily got up and ran toward the target, and where Lockdown had parked his ship.

 

He glanced behind him watching as Devcon rose from the ground, he transformed once more in a desperate attempt to beat Devcon to where Lockdown had no doubt cornered the target.  Prowl had transformed to the ship, seeing the Bounty Hunter had the target in his custody.  He studied the ship as Lockdown dragged the target up the ramp.  He had to get on that ship he had to get the information from that mech.

 

Prowl made his move as soon as Lockdown had gotten the target onboard the ship.  The ramp had begun closing and he was dragging the target further into the bowels of the ship.  There was still some time before Lockdown would be able to take off, a ship this large and heavy requires a lot of propulsion to fly.  So long as he could make it into the ship some other way he’s be golden.

 

Prowl glanced around the ship, his spark pounding as he attempted to find the best way into the ship without being detected.  This wasn’t how he expected to spend the rest of his day - this wasn’t exactly how he planned to spend a majority of his life but he had been able to adjust.

 

He made a quick look up and down the ship looking for anything, a maintenance hatch, manual access.  He had been able to find a small hatch just big enough to get his wing doors through.  This wasn’t going to be the end, and so long as Devcon didn’t notice where he had snuck into Prowl would have to say that things could turn in his favor. 

 

Prowl did his best to climb up the maintenance hatch quickly before the outside of the ship heated up in lift off.  There was no doubt that Lockdown was going to take his ship to meet with the mecha that wanted the target in the first place.  Prowl was finally able to find a hatch that lead to the inside of the ship, he wasn’t sure where exactly but he’d have to make do.

 

Prowl stayed as still and as silent as he could attempting to listen for anyone on the other side.  The sensors on his doors would be able to pick up signatures inside the room.  He was starting to feel claustrophobic as he completed the scan it showed no one was on the other side of the wall. 

 

He started unscrewing the hatch with a small twisting motion as to not catch the attention of anyone that was nearby.  The grate fell to the floor with a rather large clatter and an echo.  The room he was in was dark, and cold.  There was a distinct smell in the air as well.  He wasn’t sure what it was but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know either.

 

The Praxian carefully climbed out of the maintenance shaft before turning on his orange parking lights, they were less likely to draw attention then the headlights on his chest plates for now.  The subtle orange light washed over the room, Prowl hummed as the outline of boxes illuminated the storage room. 

 

He gave a sigh of relief when it was only boxes that greeted him in the dark room.  He made his way to the only other source of light, what Prowl assumed was a door.  There was no window to see out of the door, only a small crack between the door and the jam that would grow wider when the door retracted back into the ships wall. 

 

He hummed moving slowly attempting to make sure that he wouldn’t draw attention to himself in the storage room.  That was the last thing he wanted was to draw the attention of the mecha that had taken his Bounty.  Prowl was in enemy territory and didn’t know his way around the place, he wanted the element of surprise.  That was the only real advantage he had against Lockdown right now.

 

He stuck close to the door, hoping there wasn’t a sensor involved with the door.  He didn’t want to the door open and give away his position.  Prowl waited quietly on the inside of the room before slowly making his way out into the ships hallway.

 

“Lookin’ for somethin’ there Officer Friendly?” asked Lockdown.

 

Prowl jumped in surprise, well - his cover was blown and Lockdown was surely going to sell him to the highest bidder, and recent data had showed Prime didn’t care enough about him to actually come and get him.  After all he sold Prowls position to a greedy councilor, demanding power in return for her services.  Services that had yet to be proven accurate or in the Autobots favor.

 

Prowl remained silent as Lockdown spoke, “You know what kid, you have spunk.  I like that.  I got a proposition for you.”  Lockdown grinned widely, something that caused something to stir with in Prowl deep inside somewhere.  The recent sell out by the Prime and the recent demotion Prowl had gone through had made him angry.  He didn’t want to fight on either side any more, he didn’t want to be sold out again, but he didn’t want to give up on enacting revenge for his Frame kin.

 

“Why don’t you join me?” offered Lockdown.  “I heard about the recent shake up in command.  You were supposed to get that spot right?  SIC of the Autobots?  Last minute some high class broad comes in out of nowhere and Prime gives her the command position.  Doesn’t seem right.  Join me, help me track down Bounties.  Seems to me like they’re using you.  They aren’t your friends, not one bot or con will ever make friends with each other.  You’re skilled, I’ve seen you in action.  You’d be a huge asset to any team.”

 

Prowl remained silent even as Lockdown finished speaking.  He had some though choices to make.  His spot had been a guarantee, he had expected betrayal like that from Decepticons.  Not from the mech he had promised Jazz he would give a chance.  Prime was no commander, not a good one anyway.  Prowl looked Lockdown straight in the optics his own burning behind the visor; “I’ll join you.”

 

Prowl for a second felt his tanks drop.  Maybe he had made a mistake joining Lockdown after all they had only just met.  But something about him made Prowl think there was more to him than his rough bounty hunter exterior. 

 

“So… you wanna do it?”

 

Okay, maybe there wasn’t much underneath his Bounty Hunter Exterior.

 

…

 

The Autobot base had been mostly clear and quiet for once, a month had passed since Prowl had gone on that mission, never having returned.  Many of the Autobots had been glad, He wasn’t exactly a well-liked mech.  Looking for Prowl mostly consisted of barely efforts to find him, despite the fact he could win them the war given the correct and accurate information. 

 

It had been a month with Elita as SIC, most were still wary of her position, not entirely sure what she did to get there overnight, many had thought she might have terminated Prowl to secure her position.  Some supported her for that, others still put very little trust in her abilities, after all she was one of the councilors that got them into the war, whether she was active in Cybertrons downfall or not.  Doing nothing was the same as supporting the functionist agenda.

 

“Commander!”  Yelled a spec ops mech.  He had spent the last month on a mission, attempting to see if maybe the cons had gotten ahold of the commander.  Well tonight they had finally heard word about Prowl and it was urgent it got to the head of Spec Ops.  “Commander!  Get up I have important information!”

 

It didn’t take long before Jazz opened the door and allowed the mecha inside his hab suit/office combo.  “Hey, mech cool your jets, tell me what’s happening.”

 

“It’s commander Prowl Sir.  He’s not missing, he defected.  On my way back to base I saw him and a black and green mech, he was spiky – one orange arm, red optics.  They were both chatting with a Decepticon over that mech Prowl took that mission for about a month ago.”

 

“Hold on,” stated Jazz as he held up a digit, and sent a quick emergency ping to the Prime.  “We have to tell OP about this.  He’s up and in his office.  You have to tell him what you just told me.  ASAP.”

 

The Spec Ops agent nodded, before following Jazz as he ran.  What Prime did with the information now was up to him.  The rest of the Autobot army just needed to follow orders.

 

 


	2. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowls been gone for a month and so far the Autobots have been function and something has developed between Prowl and Lockdown

“I feel it’s time to make some tough decisions on what to do with the deserter,” stated Elita as the last of the Autobot high command to sit in their chairs around the large conference table.  The officers all maintaining a deafening silence as they glanced to their Prime Hoping he might offer different accommodations for their recently deserted Comrade.  They were aware that Commander Elita had never had the same relationship as they had with Prowl and while Prowl wasn’t the most liked Autobot he still had made friends among the ranks.  Many had trusted him and he had trusted them with his life and his ward.

“With all due respect Commander Elita I believe its best if you sit this one out.  We were all close to Prowl, when Optimus told us he earned his new comman-“ stated Ironhide before the other stood from her seat and leaned on the table.

“On the contrary Ironhide, it would be best for me to take the lead.  You all see him a friend, I see him for what he truly is.  A traitor, I _highly_ doubt that any of you could make a competent decision in regard to Prowls recent erratic behavior,” stated Elita.  “I believe he should be executed.”

“Executed?  Prime!  Are you really okay with this?” shouted Jazz.  “He was going to be our SIC!  And you threw him under the bus.  He’s angry!  He probably feels betrayed!  What would you have done in his shoes?”

“Still doesn’t change the fact he’s working with a Decepticon,” answered Elita.

“The commander is right.  He’s working with a ‘Con.  Angry or not it’s no excuse to join the other side.  What do we know about this mystery con anyway?” asked Red Alert.  “Obviously he said something to get Prowl to go along with him.”

“I don’t think he’s a ‘Con,” stated Jazz sitting in his seat.  “Unlike most of you Ironhide and I have known Prowl much longer than you all.  We knew each other before the war, Ironhide was his partner!  We both helped raise his kid!  There is no _way_ he’d join up with the Decepticons.  And from what information I can gather from our mechs on the inside and what Blasters been able to get us from the Cons network the mecha he was seen with isn’t in their database.  I don’t think he’s a Con.”

“I was able to get into contact with one of our _collegues_ from when we worked Praxus PD,” started Ironhide.  “Devcon says that the mech that was with him, from his description anyway – he said he sounds like _Lockdown_.  He gave some information on him: He’s a good Bounty Hunter, he’s no Kill, The Autobots have apparently used his services before.  He’s non-aligned unlike Devcon – who only works for us.  Lockdown works for the highest bidder,” explained Ironhide.

“Sounds like a Decepticon to me,” stated Elita.  “Anyone who doesn’t side with you is against you.” 

Red Alert started tapping his stylus against his data pad, “But in actuality he didn’t team up with a con.  He joined a NAIL just attempting to get by in the war.  We’ve had people leave our side before who disappeared into NAIL territory.  I mean none of them were as high in the command chain as Prowl but –“

“That is where the difference lies.  Prowl was higher in command than any of the others that left,” added Optimus.  “This can’t stand, I know we were all close to Prowl, and he was a great asset while he was here, but Elita is correct.  We are all too close to this. Commander Elita will take care of the Prowl issue.  Jazz,” started Optimus as he looked the other straight in the optic.  “You will collaborate with her.  Whatever she needs you will help her.  This is a direct order.”

Jazz stood his door wings flared out, he could feel his energon boiling, and he was sure Ironhide was pissed too.  “No.”

“No?  What do you mean ‘no’?  He is your Prime and Supreme Commander of the Autobots!  You will obey!” demanded Elita.  “Such insubordination would be coming from my team.”

“No offense ma’am but I ain’t on _your_ team.  I’m on _his_ and I thought he was better than selling out a friend,” stated Jazz angry.

“Selling out a friend?  I got into this position with hard work.”

“No you didn’t you bought that position with information we aren’t even sure we can use any more.  You only got that position ‘cause OP wants to bone you.  I can understand why Prowl is angry, and I’m sure you can too.”  Jazz paused for only a second staring directly at the Prime who was having trouble regaining his composure.  To Jazz it was obvious what the Prime wanted – weather Prime wanted it a secret or not was null and void now.

“That’s ridiculous!  I gave you information that your army desperately needed!”

“You gave us _information_.  Optimus gave you the position before fact checking your information.  For all we know you’re working for the Decepticons attempting to take us down from the inside.  And frankly you’re doing a terrific job!  Morale is at an all-time low.  No one trusts you Elita.  Your team might, but they trust you less than they trusted Prowl.”

“They trust me _less?_   I have years of experience being a leader I was a Councilor in Iacon before the war!  Prowl was a low cast Desk jockey!”

“That’s part of the problem!  You were high caste, most of lower caste mecha only know councilors to buy their way into things.  Which is exactly what you did.  And Prime fragged him over good by taking his position – which _you_ promised him Prime – and giving it to her over information my Team would have gotten eventually if true.”

“You didn’t have _eventually_ ,” returned Elita.

“We couldn’t afford to be choosey who sits in that chair Jazz.  We needed any information we could get, Prowl even said so himself,” stated Optimus attempting to explain his decision.  “We had to.  It was the only way we could possibly win the war.

“And guess what?  We’re **still** losing,” continued Jazz.  “Prowl was the only mech on our side who knew how to plan tactically around urban areas!  So even if that information Elita gave us is accurate there is no possible way we can even use it to our full advantage without him!”  Jazz had to pause before he could continue.  He took a deep breath calming down there had been a lot about Primes actions recently that had boiled Jazz’s energon.  He had half a mind go out there and join Prowl with this NAIL Bounty Hunter he had found for himself.  “You want Elita to lead the mech hunt to execute him fine.  But leave me and my team out of it.  I refuse to go after a friend.”

There was a long silence that followed Jazz’s rant.  Ironhide wasn’t sure it was appropriate to bring it up in front of all of command but Optimus had always had an open complaint policy – it’s just no one had ever really complained before.  Sure there were some that had complained about Prowls attitude or Ultra Magnus’ attitude but never about the Prime himself.

“Sounds like you need to be demoted too,” stated Elita filling the awkward silence with unneeded commentary.

Prime sat there watching the Jazz for a while a silent match between the two.  Jazz had fire in his optics.  He had known Prowl for a long time.  He knew what it took for Prowl to break ties with some one, especially the people who saved his life after the fall of Praxus.  He had given the Praxian equivalent of the blood oath to the Prime and Optimus had broken it.  While Praxis was dead there was still one Praxian who held that part of his culture closely.  A blood oath meant that the other would keep their word, wouldn’t sell one another out.  Optimus had broken it. 

“You are all dismissed, we will continue this meeting tomorrow.”

Jazz remained seated watching the Prime as the others all stood and left the room slowly going to return to their duties.  Optimus Stared back at the TIC, Elita remained in her own chair as the room finally cleared out.  Jazz glared at her from his chair, she was the reason this army was falling apart.  Her greedy actions were putting morale down and causing a rise in defection.  Jazz didn’t care if the two were alone or not right now. 

“Elita,” started the Prime.  “You are dismissed.”

“Nah, OP if she wants to sit in and hear what people _really_ think about her she can stay,” stated Jazz.

They both stared at Elita for several seconds before she got up and left the room.  It was probably better they hash this out between themselves.

They both watched as the door closed and locked behind her as she went to go about her duties.

“Jazz,” started Optimus.  “I know you and Prowl were close and this is probably very painful for you to deal with but the fact is-“

“No!  You listen to me,” stated Jazz demanding the Primes attention.  “I urged him to give you a chance.  That you were better than Sentinel Prime that you wouldn’t pull the same damn thing every other high-class mecha did – then you threw him under the bus.  He has a right to feel betrayed and angry.  And do you really blame him?  Defection reports went up since you’ve added Elita into the ranks the way you did.  People don’t believe in the Autobot cause any more.  My agents are reporting an increase in Decepticon recruits, we’re still badly outnumbered and out gunned.  Prime this executive decision you’ve made.  It was a bad one.  Our ranks are dwindling faster by defection than death.  At least when Prowl was here it was because we couldn’t stop death.  This was preventable.”

Jazz grabbed his own data pad and stylus before leaving the room in a huff.  He was done chatting with the Prime.  If he wanted to think like a love struck mechling let him.  He’s taking Cybertron and the Autobot Army down with him.  And he’d be sure to tell who exactly it was that caused the Decepticons to win the war.

…

“You did good,” stated Lockdown as he rolled over on their shared recharge slab.  Prowl laid out in the middle of the foam topped slab as his fans tried desperately to cool him down, a round of celebrating after another paid bounty – this time to a small inner-Decepticon faction.  Lockdown dragged his good digit over the others chest plate, tracing the star in the middle of his hood, then moved on to tracing the headlights.

“What do you mean I _did good_?” asked Prowl exhausted from their celebration.  “The interfacing or keeping my cool when one of Spec Ops went running by?”

Lockdown was silent for a moment only pausing in his idle doodling for a second before answering, “both.”

Prowl sighed before turning over his door wings twitching toward Lockdown.  The Bounty Hunter was careful of his hooked hand and started writing his name on the panel between Prowls door wings light with his digits.  The feeling made Prowl shiver, like most of what Lockdown did to his frame. 

Their _relationship_ had started as a one-night stand, Talking had turned into deep conversation, deep conversation had turned into flirting, and flirting had turned into interfacing.  Then they continued the one night stand the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that, for about a week whoever’s room they ended up in the other would leave.  Then Lockdown just never really left after a round of interfacing.  Prowl found he didn’t mind that Lockdown didn’t leave.  It made him feel, happy and warm to know the Bounty Hunter was there for him.

“Awe, Sweetspark don’t be like that,” stated Lockdown low as he started writing Prowls own name into the panel with his digit.  “Tell me what I did wrong?  Or should I just give your wings some attention?  They look lonely.”

Prowl jumped at the feeling of the others glossa being dragged down the side his door.  “Primus!  Lockdown!”  It was more surprise than pleasurable.  It sent a tingle throughout his backstruts and echoed in his peds before coming back up to rest almost painfully in his very core.

“Fine don’t tell me what I did wrong then.    You miss your buddies?” asked Lockdown wrapping his good arm around the others frame.  “It gets better you know.  Being closed off like this?  Eventually you learn to enjoy it.”

“Do you though?” asked Prowl.  Lockdown rested his helm on the others back, the Praxian relaxed with the other against him.  “You seemed to befriend me quite easily.  If being alone is so great why start something with me?”

“Cause you’re hot, and I like being alone with you.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Shut up, yes it does.”

“Whatever.”

They were both silent for a while just enjoying each other’s company.  Lockdown holding onto the Praxian with his good arm, his hooked arm safely kept away from Prowls fragile frame.  He’d be damned if his hook hurt Prowl in any way.  Lockdown just relaxed into the shorter mech and let his frame heat the smaller mecha.

Prowl hummed eventually letting the others presence calm him enough to lull him into a recharge like status.  Eventually they would both have to get up and function as adults with responsibilities.  Lockdown had jobs to do, Prowl had finances to manage for the both of them, but for right now all that mattered was the two of them, their nice warm berth and blankets and the long list of Bounty requests that sat blinking on the Death Head’s voice mail.

Prowl was almost into recharge when Lockdown moved, the slab moving with him.  He rolled over slightly to turn his head enough to watch him, his yellow visor retracted into his helm and his blue-green optics staring at the other.  “Hey, we don’t have to get up yet.”

“Well someone has to sweet spark, can’t make money cuddling with you all day,” answered Lockdown. 

Prowl smiled and rolled back into his original position, allowing Lockdown to return to the duties he had been planning to do.  With the others hand he caressed Prowls helm, “You recharge,” he started, “I’ll choose the next Bounty and start plotting a course.  I’ll fill you in in the morning.”

Prowl hummed returning easily to his semi-recharge like state as Lockdown spoke, and he was already in recharge by the time Lockdown had left the room.

The Bounty Hunter walked around quietly on his ship, looking through the list of bounties up on the board.  He leans back at the console chair and scrolls through his list of bounties.  He paused at one name, attached was the picture of Prowl from his Autobot Profile.  This was not good, Lockdown needed to get them out of Autobot space.  His own team – well the team that had fragged him over, was finally out for him, Bounty Hunters from all over Cybertron were going to be chasing after Prowl thanks to the large sum of creds and mods they were willing to barter for him.  Looks like he wasn’t going to be recharging tonight. 


	3. Warrant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There has been a change in plans. Lockdown and Prowl have to come up with other arrangements.

Prowl fought to wake in the nice comfy heated recharge slab in the captain’s quarters of the Death’s Head.  He rolled over expecting to find Lockdown next to him only to be disappointed.  He hummed and curled up tighter enjoying the warmth for a while before closing his optics and just listening to ship around him.  It was nice to be able to really just sleep in and enjoy things for a while.

While he would have put his life on the line for Optimus and the Autobot army at one time, it was still nice not to have all the responsibility any more.  Things had calmed down and Prowl was able to take a step back and assess what he really wanted from a situation and what he wanted from life.  He listened to the sounds of the ship he normally heard when Lockdown left him alone, the scratching and whining from the spark eaters at the bottom most floor, the one panel not all the way installed so with every slight amount of turbulence the panel creaks and then whines. 

Prowl sighed as he figured either Lockdown never came to recharge, which was usually the case when the berth was heated, or he had gotten them into some trouble last night after he had gone to bed.   He rolled over once more, facing the door and onlining his optics in an attempt to use telepathy as a form of communication.  He was kind of disappointed that Lockdown wasn’t here to give him morning snuggled, though one wouldn’t get that confession out of him.

He debated on if he really wanted to get out of bed or not.  He knew eventually he would have to, that eventually he would have to help navigate or track the target with Lockdown.  Running a ship this big could be done by one person but it definitely made the job easier to have a pilot and then a navigator.  Prowl was just glad that he could read star charts, thanks to his ward, and his obsession with Space ships.

Prowl eventually won the battle and sat up in the bed.  The blankets draped down his hood and front bumper only one headlight visible, he felt tired, as though he hadn’t gotten any recharge what so ever.  He shrugged if he had to guess it was likely that the _festivities_ last night were the reason for the exhaustion today.  He eventually gathered the courage to dangle his legs off the berth into the cold stale air before lifting himself up and off the warm cocoon that Lockdown had ensure he would get. 

Prowl shivered as he stood, his paneling and climate control systems were hardly used when he lived in Praxus.  It was near the equator of the planet so the city was usually warm or hot all year round.  Iacon and Kaon on the other hand were near the poles.  It had taken Prowl some getting used to in having 4 seasons rather than just summer.  He walked slowly to the door contemplating grabbing the still warm blanket on the bed.  By the time he made a decision he was already far closer to the door than he was to the bed, so he decided he really didn’t need it.

Prowl took a big intake, as the cool air from the hallway wisped across his already shivering paneling.  There was a draft somewhere near here.  He would have to make special note and see if Lockdown would add it to his Honey Do List.  Since Prowl came from a Climate that was all warmth and Summer he fell to sickness in colds and other illnesses rather easy especially when he had never been given the proper upgrades by the Autobots before he left.

His helm felt heavy as he walked through the halls of the ship.  He walked slowly into the helm of the ship only now realizing just how fast they were truly travelling.  He stopped and looked out on of the windows that revealed the outside space.  They weren’t in an area Prowl recognized, either the bounty Lockdown had chosen was outside Cybertronian approved space or something was wrong.  Lockdown wouldn’t have stayed up all night if it was just a Bounty they were after.

Eventually Prowl gathers the courage to enter the helm, the door sliding open with a whoosh noise he had become so familiar with in the past month.  The black and green mecha swivels in his chair, his optics duller than normal – obviously from lack of recharge.  The mech had after all barely slept when their bounty was being transported to the drop off location for payment.  Lockdown didn’t really recharge well when there were targets held in custody on his ship.

“Good mornin’” grinned Lockdown.  “How’d you recharge?”  It was a simple question and obviously the other mecha was tired.  The others posture could usually do with some improvement but right now it could use a lot of work. 

“It could have been better,” admitted Prowl.  Lockdown smirked knowing exactly what he meant by saying it out loud. 

“Awe, you missed me.”

Prowl hummed as he crossed his arms over his chest, “Where are we going?  It’s not like you to miss out recharging like that after a job.”

Lockdown went silent deciding what was best to do.  Lie or break the news to him that his side threw a dead or alive sticker above his picture for hefty sum of money.  He didn’t know Prowl as well as he probably should seeing as how they were… _something_.  They weren’t exactly mates, as far as Lockdown could tell, but they weren’t exactly friends with benefits either.  It was one of those mysteries that might never be answered.

He glanced into Prowls visor, he could see the light outline of the Praxian blue-green optics underneath.  They were burning bright, either Prowl had woken up on the wrong side of the bed or he wasn’t ready to deal with lying today.  Either way this was going to break Prowls spark, and Lockdown would rather it be because of the Autobots rather than him.

“I needed to get you out of Autobot space. Cybertronian Space,” stated Lockdown as he added a correction.  He was completely serious there was no playful tone, there was nothing to indicate that this might have been some elaborate joke or prank or some weird way to get into Prowls interface equipment.  Lockdown was serious.

“What do you mean?” asked Prowl.  He had known that leaving the Autobots the way he had wasn’t going to be _good_ for him, that there would be consequences to his actions, but he hadn’t expected the need to be exiled from Cybertronian space.  They had had deserters before, but none had been as high in the command structure as Prowl had been.

“I mean,” started Lockdown as he placed the ship on autopilot and headed over to the console that they usually got their targets from.  “This came up the yesterday,” he pulled up the target information – his own information and just stared as he processed the job description.

Name: Prowl, former Autobot.

Mech | Praxian, special abilities: Tac-net supercomputer.  Wanted for faction desertion and treason against the Prime.

Reward 100,000 credits

Prowl read over the job description attempting to figure out if what he had done really warranted such a price tag on his helm, and to get someone else involved with this?  It had been an impulsive decision on his part, but one he still stood by.  He might have needed to be rebuilt by the Autobots in order to function but he wasn’t bound by blind loyalty to them like so many of the others.  The lesser of two evils was still evil.

Lockdown wasn’t sure what to do with the information he had placed on the screen.  Would it cause Prowl agony seeing it like this for a prolonged period of time?  Should he delete the job from his mail box? 

“Why are you doing this?” asked Prowl as he tore his gaze away from the console and focused on the Bounty Hunter leaning against the console.

Lockdown only shrugged, he wasn’t sure he could answer the other.  “I like you officer Friendly.  You’re an asset to this team and I want to keep you on it.”  There was a long pause before Lockdown quietly continued.  “I also want to see where this goes,” stated Lockdown as he waved his hook between the two. 

Prowl couldn’t help but smile at the others gesture.  It was nice to know he was wanted for more than just credits.  That Lockdown wasn’t willing to sell him off for a 100,000 credit payday.  One that would be easy given their situation.  One where Prowl only needed to recharge for Lockdown to travel to Cybertron and drop him off with a nice little bow asking for the credits.  It was nice to know he might actually be able to trust someone with his life.

Prowl smiled lightly, his optics remained dull and void the news still sinking in.  Lockdown only watched as the dull ex-autobot retreated from the helm of the ship to go Primus only knew where.  He was aware that Prowl needed to mourn.  Something had broken inside of the other and Lockdown wasn’t sure how to fix it.  There was no amount of jokes or flirting that would make what happened okay for Prowl, Lockdown wasn’t sure he would ever be okay with what happened.

For now the black and green mech would settle where he was allow Prowl to process everything and if he wasn’t ok in a few hours he’d go down and check on the officer. 

…

 

Hours passed before Lockdown decided Prowl had mourned enough.  Yes it was painful know the people he thought he could trust sanctioned putting a price over his helm, but it was something he should have expected.  One doesn’t make friends in an army.  There is fighting together or standing apart.  That isn’t how one builds friendships. 

Lockdown walked to the galley, hoping to get himself and Prowl a cube, only to find the very mech he was looking for washing cubes, washing clean cubes.  Lockdown was silent for a while as he watched Prowl clean the same cube three times before he stepped in to stop him.

“Prowl,” started Lockdown.  “Kid.”  He seemed to have gotten the others attention as soon as he came up from behind Prowl and lowered the cube he had been cleaning into the drying rack.  “I think the cubes clean. “  He paused wanting to ask if the other was alright, but he knew it was a stupid question.  Of course the kid wasn’t _alright_.  But damn it he was going to have to suck it up and take that rage and direct it somewhere useful.

Prowl remained silent his visor dull, as he just stared at Lockdown.  It was eerie to see just how much life wasn’t in those optics of his.  Prowl had never been outgoing by any means, but Lockdown was used to seeing a warm calm to him.  Not this cold hard _nothing_ behind his optics, it was painful to see the other in such away. 

What was worse was there was no sarcasm that came back at him.  They were two of a kind, dry sense of humor, been through the pit and back in different ways.  Lockdown had known Prowl to always speak his mind never afraid to let Lockdown know he was being an idiot, he imagined it was the same with in the autobot army.  Lockdown could also imagine that Prowl wasn’t the most liked ‘bot on the roster either.  His blunt truths were hardly the way to make friends.  Lockdown was the same way, Prowl told the truth because he cared, Lockdown told the truth because lying was too much work.

Lockdown took a deep intake hoping Prowl might say something, anything.  The silence was deafening, it made the Bounty Hunter uncomfortable and it only reminded him that he needed to fix this, how he couldn’t be sure, but he needed to get Prowl reoriented and back on track.  They couldn’t stay down for long.  Not with that high of a price on the others helm. 

Lockdown rested his hand and his hook on the smaller black and whites shoulder panels, he was careful of the recent wax job Prowl had performed on his frame.  “Prowl – look.  I know this is rough.  But they weren’t your friends.  You were allies, that’s different.  You placing your loyalty to them was a wasted effort, I get it your frustrated and don’t know what do, and I’ve been there kid.  Nothing will help the pain right now but I need you to focus.  We’re on the run and I can’t do the jobs for the Autobots anymore.  So we have to figure something else out.  I need your processor at full capacity.  Got it?”

Prowl nodded slowly the energy around him seemed sluggish and Lockdown wasn’t sure what the slow nods meant in the others helm, he wasn’t even sure that Prowl had heard him speak in coherent sentences all Lockdown knew was Prowl was answering him albeit slowly.  Lockdown drooped his hook to his side and lowered his hand so it grasped onto Prowls tightly.  A sign to let the other know he was still there, people care for him.  He saw the others doors droop low and tremble wildly.  This was going to be a long and emotional day. 

…

Jazz hummed as Devcon pulled up to the meeting spot, a meeting set up by Elita.  He couldn’t believe the pink femme trusted him with this, though that wasn’t entirely true either.  He could feel another presence just beyond their meeting place.  It wasn’t Elita, Jazz knew that much it was one of her lackeys.  Trying to see who they could really trust.  If Jazz could work despite his feelings for Prowl.  It was a cruel test, one Jazz didn’t mind flunking.  Prowl had deserved more.  The Autobots deserved more.

“I heard about the cop,” stated Devcon as he transformed and pulled out a cigar from subspace lighting it with the exhaust port on his hip.  “Damn shame the bots had to lose him.”

“You got information on him?” asked Jazz dryly.  He was here to get any information he could on Prowl and get back. 

“Yeah, I got info on him.  Hooked up with Lockdown, he pilots the Death’s Head.  It ain’t goin to be easy getting to him you all know that right?  Lockdowns a league all on his own.  You’re better off hoping the copper comes to his senses.”

Jazz shrugged, “Orders are orders.”

Devcon raised one brow before taking a long huff of his cigar.  “Orders are orders?  OP finally bust a processor against Megatron or something?”

“New management.  Reason Prowl left.”

“Damn, new boss must be the pit if Prowl can’t handle her.”

“You have no idea.”

“That’s really all I got Jazz, other than they were headed toward the Orion sector.”

“The Orion slave trade one?”

“That’s the one.”  The Bounty Hunter tapped once on the cigar, the ashes falling to the ground, let out a huff of air and then tapped his cigar three more times.  More ashes falling to the ground. 

Jazz studied the other, “Good.  I will let the commander know.  Thanks Dev.  Your reward,” stated Jazz as he held out a bag full of credit chips.

The blue bounty hunter took the creds and grinned, He held the bag up and shook it.  “Sounds about right.  You short me Jazz and you’re going to get an earful.”

“I know mech.  Ain’t gotta tell me twice.”

…

 

The ride back to the base had been rough, finally he was able to figure out who was following him, Chromia.  The bike was Elitas loyal second in command probably to a fault.  Jazz found her like most of the new arrivals grating, though he did his best not to show it.  Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.

:: Chromia.  To what do I owe the pleasure? ::

Had he been in bot mode he would have smirked, he had known she was there following him.  The entire time.  Jazz just couldn’t be entirely sure on the reason why.

:: Thought I’d give you a little back up. ::

She was lying straight through her vocalizer.  Jazz knew that wasn’t the answer, out of all the Bounty Hunters that could have had information on Lockdown and Prowl Devcon was probably the least dangerous to Autobots, seeing as how he only accept Autobot originated jobs.

:: Does your boss know I’m a big mech and I can handle my own against Devcon? ::

He was insulted even to be hearing such a lie.  He wasn’t some rookie with no experience he was the head of Special Ops.  He did his job and he did it better than any other mecha on this Primus forsaken army.  Jazz sped up, knowing with his weight and size he would never lose the smaller blue-green motorcycle, but damn he could try.

He kicked up dust behind him as he sped to the base.  A few more miles and he’d be back in the Autobot base, not really sure if he would consider it ‘safe’ but he’d be among allies.  He pulled to a stop at the main entrance showing his rub sign to the guard.   The guard nodded to another before he opened the gate into the base.

Once inside Jazz walked leisurely through the grounds of the base toward the offices.  Ironhide approached the white and blue mecha, “So what’d you find out?”

Jazz shrugged, he knew better than to try and communicate the truth under the lies, so he had to lie to Ironhide.  He knew the other wouldn’t tell a soul, he cared for Prowl as much as Jazz did.  Not to mention if work got around to Smokescreen where Prowl was – it could be dangerous.  The kid was already spark broken to know his guardian deserted, and was sold out for information.  “Last Dev saw they were headed to the Orion slave trade nebulae.”

“Think his new partners looking for some action?” asked Ironhide.

“It’s possible,” started Jazz.  “Though unlikely.  If they’re headed to the Orion slave trades either LD’s looking to make better money off Prowl there, gotta admit Prowls a catch.  Different personality and he’d have glitches swarming him from helm to ped.”

Ironhide shrugged, he and Prowl had been close enough that when Smokescreen needed emotional support he was there to give it to him.  Prowl had never quite understood how to raise a youngling from the well, when Smokescreen was forced into his care, but Ironhide had previous experience raising a well-borne mecha. 

“Have fun with the boss,” stated Ironhide as their conversation came to an end and Jazz walked up to the foyer of the office building they were currently using as their base of operations. 

“Yeah well, I’ll probably need it,” mumbled Jazz as he watched Ironhides large form disappear.  He entered the building completely and started making his way through the maze of hallways and offices before he finally made it to Elitas.

“Commander,” started Jazz as he knocked on the open door.  Her secretary sat outside, fuming that Jazz hadn’t stopped to check in with her.  “I met with the informant.  Mission went according to plan and got information on Prowl and Lockdowns whereabouts.  Last known direction: Orion Nebulae.”

“Excellent.  I will mobilize a task force and get a team out there to capture the traitor dead or alive.”

 


	4. Felines and Sparklings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lockdown and Prowl stumble upon something, well someone and they take it upon themselves to return them to their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big Thank you to Tertiaxdecima and Autobotwheelie, both on Tumblr, for the names for the sparkling in this chapter.

“Where are we?” asked Prowl as Lockdown lowered the ramp of the ship.  The shocks for the ships landing gears needed oil or replacing they were well worn and well used.  After a few days traveling at warp 2 through space and Prowls recent bout of depression had knocked his chronometer off a few days, or so he had through.

“A spaceport just outside Coluan space,” answered Lockdown.  Prowl watched the other gather items into his bag, things that were to be traded or sold in exchange for something else or stuff that the owners had already paid for that Lockdown needed to bring to the customer.  Lockdown grabbed his hooded poncho and wrapped it around himself.  “We’re running low on supplies.  I am going to meet with one of Colu’s smartest minds, Vril Dox.  He might be able to get us a formula for energon.”

Prowl nodded, the struggle for energon was getting worse back home with the war, they needed to look to other planets for ways to create or find energon.  Energon had been drying up since before the war started, and the fighting only seemed to make the energon shortage worse.  Fighting and killing wasted energon, with every soldier there was a ration they needed to provide.  Last Prowl was aware the Decepticons held all the energon mines.  The Autobots had been struggling to get by even without large numbers of troops.  “That sounds like a good idea.”  Prowl was silent for a while.  “Can I come?” he asked slowly.  He knew what the others answer was going to be most likely; No.

“Sure,” stated Lockdown as he dug through the closet for another cloak for Prowl.  It would probably be big on the shorter mech, but with the wings he had to account for maybe it would even out.   “Just stick close and let me do the talking.  Daxumites like to hang around here, so do Quintessons.  So, keep close, clear?”

“Crystal,” stated Prowl.  He allowed Lockdown to drape the cloth over his frame, the musty smell of fabric hidden away in a dark possibly damp closet on the Death’s Head for Primus only knew how long.  The moisture seemed to enter his vents and make it harder for him to take in cool air.  Once Lockdown was sure the other was ready he opened the hatch and a freezing breeze entered the ship.  There was a reason that Lockdown had brought out the fabric, it was to ensure they remained at operating temperature.  Prowl wondered just who these Coluan’s were that they needed to operate in such cold temperatures.

Prowl followed the other as he made the way down the ramp.  He could feel his frame chill with every step he took, frost covered whatever was exposed, his peds first and his windshield fogged over.  His Engine worked had, red lining in a feeble attempt to keep his systems from all out freezing.  The fabric helped, working like a blanket, and keeping their body temperatures warm, so they wouldn’t drop to dangerous levels.

Lockdown walked quickly, his strides were so much larger than Prowls own.  Keeping up with the taller mech was a bit of a work out.  Even with Lockdown walking at a leisurely pace Prowl had to speed walk to keep up with Lockdowns lazy strides.  Double in the fact that he hadn’t been eating regularly the shorter mecha had a very energy draining outing so far and it had only just begun.

The tundra of the planet from the docks of ships, most the same size as the Death’s Head, was quiet.  The only indication that sound could be made was from the weight of both of their frames against some re-melted snow.  Crunching under their peds as they walked and the howling of the frigid cold breeze as they continued their way to the market.

Prowl paused a few steps behind Lockdown, the green and Black mech had glanced behind him every so often ensuring he didn’t get too far away from the shorter mecha.  When he noticed Prowl had stopped and started digging through the snow, his fabric covered frame exposed to the deadly subzero temperatures.  Already Lockdown could tell that frost was beginning to creep over the others frame as he dug attempting to unbury something.

“What the frag you doin’ kid?” asked Lockdown as he turned back to grab Prowl by the scruff bar and drag him to the market.

“There’s something under here,” stated Prowl.  He continued to dig through the half solid snow that had fallen and remelted after a single warm day then froze once more as the planet returned to normal.

“There ain’t nothing there Prowler, come on, we can’t keep Vril waiting all da-“Lockdown stopped mid word as something bright finally showed itself under the white snow Prowl had dug out.  Lockdown kneeled to start helping the other dig up whatever was down there.  With any luck the item Prowl found would be valuable at the very least.

With the two working together to dig up the item it didn’t take very long to finally be able to take it out of the frozen tundra.  Lockdown stood shocked mumbling a quick, “it _can’t_ be.”  Prowl continued as if this was nothing new to him – though with the decals he had removed from his frame this probably _wasn’t_ new to Prowl.  Prowl had been a cop before the war so it was entirely possible that he had dealt with a similar situation as this.

“Is it ok?” asked Lockdown as he watched the shorter mech move to touch the possibly dead frame of a sparkling.  It felt like eons had passed before Lockdown got an answer.

Prowl glanced up to Lockdown surprised to see that the other cared so much than before then he figured it was nothing that he should worry about.  Prowl shrugged off that train of thought attempting to gauge if the sparkling was DOA or worth saving.  Prowl brought his audial up to the sparklings frame attempting to hear any motion with in.  Fans, hard drive clicks, engine knocking, anything that would signal life coming from the tiny body.

“Well?”

“Shut up give me a second,” stated Prowl as he attempted to listen harder.

Lockdown stood back attempting to be as silent as possible, so the officer could work.  He jumped when Prowl wrapped the cloak over the small form and picked it up.  Making sure that the fabric covered the tiny being.

“She’s alive.”  It was all Prowl said before he stood and ran with Lockdown the rest of the way to the warm market.

It seemed to take far too long for them to get inside the markets shelter away from the frigid cold.  Once the air lock closed behind them Prowl kneeled, trying his hardest to get the small sparkling to warm up.  The sparklings frame was covered in ice and frost.  The child had been out there for a while, even for an adult.  Her internal components had been exposed for far too long to the frigid elements outside the compound.

Prowl glanced to Lockdown as he continued to hold the small sparkling close to his frame.  He removed the fabric from his own frame and wrapped it gently around the sparkling in his arms.  The sparklings silver and purple frame was covered in a thick layer of ice and Prowl tried desperately to defrost her.  He turned his fan to run in the normal direction, ignoring his HUDs objections and keeping the sparkling close to his vents.  “We have to find a medic,” stated Prowl to the taller mech.

“Right,” stated the black and green spiked mech.  Where to find a medical facility that would cater to their species.  Was there even such a thing here?  There had to be since there were so many Cybertronian beings here.  Lockdown helped the shorter mech up, Prowl was cool to the touch.  While they were sheltered from the awful subzero tempratures now it was still cold inside the shelter.  It probably wasn’t dangerous, but it wasn’t comfortable either.  Especially since they had just come in from freezing to death temperatures.  “This way,” stated Lockdown as he pulled Prowl by the arm and toward a Camien medical facility.

Prowl followed the other, keeping the sparkling close to his frame as they rushed through the crowds to get to the other end of the market.  It was a blessing that there was a Cybertronian medical facility out here, nowhere near Cybertronian space.  Lockdown made sure to take the brunt of the assaults in attempting to get the sparkling the care she needed.  Prowl used his sound box a few times when people refused to get out of the way, no one messed with a cop in an emergency.

It took far too long for Prowls liking to get into the medical facility.  Lockdown held the door open and Prowl cradled the sparkling as her systems tried desperately to defrost.  A nurse ran up to the Praxian holding the sparkling close.  “What happened?”

“Unknown.  Found almost dead at the scene outside.  Wrapped in a blanket to attempt to get her temperature up.” Answered Prowl.  The Officer watched as the nurse nodded and took the sparkling from him, she kept her in the blanket for now and placed her on a hospital bed before taking her beyond the doors.

Lockdown turned to Prowl, Prowl just stared at the swinging double doors.  He wanted to make sure that the sparkling would survive.  Possibly return her to her creators whoever they might be.  Where ever they might reside.  Lockdown was also aware that Prowl was stupidly stubborn, to the point where Lockdown wouldn’t be able to argue against taking the kid to her parents.  Not that he had any good reasons _not_ to argue about it.

Lockdown grabs the others wrist and pulls him to the waiting room chairs.  “Hey kid, you stay here.  Tell them her name is High beam, I’m going to go finish some business and get us that energon from Vril, then I’ll be back.  Make sure they know her _name_ got it?”

Prowl nodded, “High beam, got it.”  Prowl sat his door wings angled high in anxiety and his chin resting in his hands, his elbow joints and extended plating digging into his thigh plating.  He glanced to Lockdown as he left the waiting area to get energon they desperately needed along with other items they were bound to need once they got the kid back in their care and ready to return to their home.

…

Lockdown held the bag of items he had packed close, with a sparkling on board for at least a little while until they were able to find her creators and transport her to her home.  This meant they would need more energon, more supplies to keep the sparkling safe onboard the Death’s Head.  Lockdown wasn’t about to let the child stay here alone in Coluan space where Cybertronians might be allowed but the ones that usually came here didn’t give two frags about sparklings – even their own.

Lockdown entered the shop, greeted by a Coluan.  His green skin meshed with metallic cybernetic exoskeleton.  “Vril Dox,” stated Lockdown as he leaned on the counter facing the larger organic.

“Lockdown, long time no see. You bring the items?”

Lockdown dropped the messenger bag full of parts onto the counter.  But kept his hooked servo over the bag, pulled it closer to him as Vril moved to take it.  “ah-ah.  Hold on to your actuator bucko.  Price went up.  Had more trouble than normal gettin’ these babies than I thought I would.”

“Up, how much?” asked Vril eyeing Lockdown annoyed with the new development.  Very rarely did Lockdown negotiate after the first negotiation.

“What we originally agreed upon, Energon, enough for two mechs to 6 quartexes to a vorn, now I need enough for two mecha and a sparkling to last 6 quartexes to a year.  Plus a few hundred creds.”

“Throw in the schematics for your ships warp drive and I’ll give you the energon formula, the machinery to synthesize energon at a discounted price, and a new client with a fat wallet.”

Lockdown was silent for a while thinking it over.  Prowl had already gotten them a job by saving that sparkling.  They would have to find her parents.  There was no guarantee that the kid’s parents could afford to pay them a reward for finding their sparkling.  Lockdown wasn’t going to keep the kid away from her parents just because they weren’t going to be rewarded.  A new client was bound to bring in some revenue, whereas this case Prowl had brought to him, likely wasn’t going to bring much.

Lockdown extended his servo, pushing the items over with his hook, “Deal.”  Vril took the offered Servo shaking it and taking the bag of tech.

“Excellent,” started Vril as he opened the messenger bag and looked at the components.  He scanned them intensely before nodding to the other and putting them back into the bag.  “And the schematics?”

“You’ll get those when I see the items delivered to my ship. The client?”

“After I get the schematics.”

Lockdown hummed not liking that he wasn’t the last one to hold something over the others helm but he would have to deal with it.  They needed the energon and they also needed to get the kid back home.

…

“Sir?” Prowl jumped and looked up to the red and white plated nurse.  She looked exhausted.  Something must have happened to the kid.

“Yes?” he asked hoping she would continue quickly not knowing what was going on with the kid was the worst.

“We’ve done everything we possibly could.  Right now, it’s up to her,” stated the nurse.  “You’re welcome to sit with her if you want.  It might be a while before she wakes up, but she’s stable.  What’s her name?”

“High beam,” stated Prowl.  He would have to lie and say this was his sparkling.  Thankfully this was a different nurse than the other who had asked him what happened.  But it was the only way they would be able to make sure the sparkling wasn’t sold into the Cybertronian slave trade, being so close to Quintesson space meant that all Cybertronians, colony born or not were vulnerable to being kidnapped to the slave trade sponsored by their long-time slavers.

The nurse held the door open for Prowl as he stepped in, once inside the Praxian turned around and looked to the nurse, “If you see a tall mecha, green and black, can you bring him here?  His names Lockdown.  Or if he asks for High beam?”

“Sure, is he the sire?” asked the nurse.

Prowl paused, there was no plausible way their coding could produce a sparkling that looked like that.  “The only Sire she’s ever known,” lied Prowl as he watched the nurse walk away.  Prowl wasn’t sure how that made him look in her optics but hopefully they could convince the kid to stay close to either him and Lockdown and play along.  The last thing they needed was her running off and being bought by a Quintesson.

Prowl sat next to the bed, not close since he wasn’t sure how the sparkling would react to his presence.  Though he knew that with his enforcer colors and frame type it was likely that she was going to at least trust him.  Sparkling’s had been taught that if they needed help to find a police officer.  He just hoped that she would be okay, and they would be able to make their way back to the ship and get her home.  Once they figured out where that was.

Prowl paced the hospital room for a while, eventually he decided to settle over by the large window looking out into the marketplace.  He watched organics and metallic life mingle and exchange and trade items and services.  He kept an optic out for Lockdown.  He wasn’t sure if he would ever get his cape back, but it was better used here than on him anyway.  He would need some sort of covering to return to the ship, but until the sparkling was awake and ready to travel to the ship Prowl wasn’t going anywhere.

“Hey Officer Friendly.” Grinned Lockdown with another thing of fabric in his arms, this time in a darker color then the dark green fabric he had been wearing earlier.

Prowl smiled to the other as he entered, he lay the new purchases on the counter, making sure not cover anything the medics might need, Lockdown stands opposite the officer at window and glanced back to the kid then to the black and white mech.  “They said it’s up to her now to wake up.”

“So, we wait then,” stated Lockdown propping himself up against the wall.

“Do we have time to wait?” asked Prowl.  He went silent to a while before he continued, “It’s only a matter of time before the Autobots get word that I’m here.”

Lockdown moved close to Prowl embracing him and stopping him from saying anything more by locking their lips together, then resting the crest on his fore helm on Prowl white chevron.  “Look, last I heard from Swindle they got more to worry about than catching you.  If they’re putting more resources into finding you than they are winning the war, then they should have put more effort into keeping you.”

Prowl just hummed and rested his helm on the taller mechs chest.  Prowl rested his optics for a moment before hearing the sparklings engine attempt to start up.  A few clicks and a wheeze before it fired to life, the slow-moving pistons were functioning!  This was great news!

Lockdown and Prowl both paused in their embrace as they watched the purple and grey sparkling booted up and was reintroduced to the world around her.

“Where-Where is my kitty?” asked the sparkling groggy, their voice box was staticky from the non-use of the vocoder.

“Your kitty?” asked Prowl as he approached the sparkling.

“Who’re you?”

“I’m Officer Prowl.  This is my Partner Lockdown.  We found you outside the compound,” explained Prowl as he sat gently on the end of the sparklings med berth.

“’m Cold.”

“I know.  You were outside. They gave you heating blankets and heating pads, so you’d warm up faster,” answered Prowl.

“Can I go home?” asked the sparkling pulling the blankets over themselves more.  Their vocoder was still full of static as they spoke.

“My Partner and I are going to try and get you home,” stated Prowl.  “What’s your name?  Do you know where you’re from?” asked Prowl as Lockdown remained in the back.  The other glanced from the sparkling laying on the medical slab to out the window, keeping watch for anyone who might not be looking for their best interest.  Such as the actual cops, not an ex-cop pretending to be an active enforcer.

Lockdowns optics widened as he watched a group of black and whites enter the clinic, he turned to Prowl tapping him on the shoulder, “Prowler we gotta get going.”

Prowl glanced back to Lockdown the other having rushed from the window to where he had set the cloaks.  The Praxian turned back to the sparkling, then to Lockdown.  “Should we take the sparkling?  I don’t think they’re ready to be-”

“Yes, take the kid,” stated Lockdown.  “If it's the last thing we do that kids going to go home and see their creators.”

Prowl nodded, doing what he could to calm the child down.  “Hey.  We need to get you out of here all right?  Me and my partner here?  We have a ship it’s got a place to keep you warm and safe.  We’re going to make sure you get home, alright?”

The sparkling only nodded as the Bounty Hunter and Black and White officer put on their cloaks before returning their attention to the sparkling and wrapping them up snuggly in the blankets and cloaks that Lockdown had been able to barter for.  They had gently removed the leads that were monitoring the sparkling sparkrate and temprature.  Prowl lifted the sparkling all bundled up and moved as quickly as he could carrying a child.  

Lockdown lead the way through the hospital making sure the coast was clear before they continued to the Death’s Head.  Prowl did his best to keep the kid covered and safe, there was going to be a big medical issue if they took too long to get to the Death’s Head.  Lockdown lead the way out into the cold as he made a comm call to Vril the original reason they had even come to this market.

“Wait!  My Kitty!” shouted the Sparkling.  The sparkling attempted to escape from the enforcers hold.  “I have to find my kitty!”  

Prowl maneuvered the sparkling just enough to get a firmer grasp on them. “I know.  I know you want your kitty.  I promise Lockdown will find your kitty.  Do you know your Kitty’s name?  Or have a picture of your kitty?”  Primus he hoped that Lockdown would be okay going on a wild goose chase for a cat.

He hoped Lockdown was a cat person.

The sparkling seemed to calm down after Prowl had promised Lockdown would get them their cat.  Prowl was sure he could convince Lockdown to search for the cat until it was found.  How hard could it really be for a professional Bounty hunter to track down and capture a cat?

Prowl and Lockdown both continued through the harsh cold.  It seemed colder now that it was when they had found the sparkling.  Though the walk back didn’t seem to take nearly as long as it had before.  

The ship was in their optic range.  The sparkling was shivering even while being wrapped up with several blankets and a cloak.  It didn’t take long before the Bounty Hunter was able to get the ramp open and allow Prowl and the sparkling in through the door first.  “G.O.A.T. Turn up the heat,” ordered Lockdown as he opened the door to the living room/entertainment room.

G.O.A.T. stood for Guardian on Alert Technology, it was the security and ship management software that Lockdown used on the Death’s Head.  A lot of older ships had this software, G.O.A.T. was able to control pretty much every aspect of the ship by voice command.  It had some security bugs that were easy to exploit but Prowl had been working on getting those bugs patched so Lockdown wouldn’t have to buy the newest software that might not run on the Death’s Heads dated hardware.

G.O.A.T. did as Lockdown ordered turning the heat up a few degrees and went silent waiting for the next order.  Lockdown turned to Prowl to see him laying the sparkling on the L couch, Prowl sat next to the sparkling making sure they were comfortable and upright before asking the more serious questions.  “Okay, so What’s your name?”

“Rerun.”

“Okay, Rerun, do you know where you’re from?”

“I’m from Caminus!  My parents run Acadia!”

Prowl nodded and looked to Lockdown. So, this kid was Camien Royalty, though even then Caminus didn’t have much in the way of money.  They were a smaller Cybertronian colony.  Maybe things had changed since the Cybertronian Empire fell but even then, no one really knew where it was.  Its location had been lost with the ark-1 and its crew.

“Caminus?” asked Lockdown.  “I’ve done a few jobs there.”  There was a pause before Lockdown continued.  “Prowl, if they’ve been allied to the Autobots I don’t think it's safe to go there.  They hold Primes at a very high pedestal.”

“We’re going to take Rerun to her creators.  If I get taken into custody, it's something we deal with when the time comes.  Besides   They should be focusing their efforts on Cybertron, retrieving allies from Cybertron wouldn’t be responsible financially or energy wise.  I’d like to think Prime would be smarter than that.”

Prowl turned to the sparkling once more, remembering the cat Rerun had spoken about.  “So, you had a cat, right?  Your cats missing?”

The sparkling nodded and hopped excitedly loosening the swaddle job Prowl had been able to perform to keep the sparkling warm in the harsh cold climate this planet had.  “Yeah!  Her names Pixel.  She’s an Altihex gold corona!  Can you find her please?  She ran outside.”

“Are your creators on this planet?  At the market?” asked Prowl.

Rerun shook their helm, “No I was taken by these weird floaty guys with squiggly arms.”  The sparkling motioned their own arms in such a way like an octopus or a squid.  

Prowl and Lockdown looked at each other, “Quintessons.”

The sparkling just looked at them and brought their knees close to their chest, and looked worried between the two of them.  The silence was short but intimidating, also a tad awkward.  Rerun broke the silence quietly by asking, “Will you please find my kitty?  Pixels my only friend please?”

Prowl looked up to Lockdown another round of silence fell over the three, Lockdown nodded toward the doorway, so they might speak privately on what to do about missing cat.  Prowl quickly dug for the remote to the holo screen, “here find some cartoons or something.  We have to go talk.”

Rerun nodded taking the offered remote and settling on the couch looking through the videos on the Death’s Head for anything resembling cartoons.  Prowl stood from the end of the extended part of the couch and walked with Lockdown out into the hallway.

“Prowl we gotta wait for the shipment from Vril.  I got machinery coming that will solve our energon problem.  We don’t got time for me to search for Reruns cat.  Vril will drop off that stuff, we got quintesson enforcers looking for their little slave sparkling.”

“Lockdown look I know this is going to put a hitch in getting off this planet but that kids only friend is their cat.  Please.  I’ll stay on board the ship for when Vril drops off the Machinery.  But Lockdown it’s not going to be a pleasant ride if we don’t find Reruns cat.  Come on, do this for me if not for Rerun.”

Lockdown was silent for a moment.  “Fine.  But you owe me and once the sparklings back home, the cat too, we do _whatever_ I want.”

“One night, you know my limits.”

“Two.”

“Fine two,” stated Prowl before he started heading back into the living room.

“Alright.  I’ll start tracking down that cat.” stated Lockdown as he went to through command center for the ship.  

…

Four Groon had passed since Lockdown had left the ship to find the kids cat.  4 Groon in the freezing cold tundra looking for a cat that probably wasn’t even alive anymore.  He would have to return to the ship or risk dying out here in the tundra, something Lockdown couldn’t do - not when he was going to be leaving Prowl alone to fend for himself.  The kid was smart, but he’s dealt with, so much Lockdown wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he left Prowl on this damn planet alone.

Lockdown sighed, as his ankle rolled on an uneven something under the snow.  He swore the cloak separating slightly and letting more of the bitter sharp cold in.

“Mew.”

Lockdown jumped and stared directly at this damn cat.  He brought up a data pad, one with a picture of an Altihex gold corona.  He glanced at the data pad then to the beast.  That was the cat.  Just sitting there on an exposed rock, its little feet tucked under itself.  Something that the data net had called ‘loafing’.

“You,” stated Lockdown glaring at the cat.  The small beasts tail lazily flicked from side to side.  Its plating frosty and cold.  It had found some place warm to stay for a while.  Now it was ‘loafing’ to keep warm.  Lockdown got ready to capture the cat crouching down, the cloak opens the uncomfortable feeling of the cold bitter air attacking more of his body now than before.  He hoped that the cold was hindering the beast, so Lockdown wouldn’t have to try too hard to get the cat into his custody.  He was regretting not bringing a trap.

Lockdown sprung forward attempting to get the cat, the beast hissed and moved just out of reach.  Lockdown fell into the snow, the white material harder than he thought, but his heavy frame still left a deep impression.  “Frag.  Stupid cat.”

Lockdown attempted to catch the cat again, he got up in a hasty manner, the snow and cold seeping into his joints and internals in a way he had previously thought close to impossible.  He jerked forward catching the cat by its foot and then pulling it close to him.  He should have brought a cage or something.  He attached a harness to it after some fuss from the cat, but at least Pixel wasn’t going anywhere.  Not while Lockdown was still online.

“Stupid cat,” stated Lockdown as he started making his way back to the ship.

...

Lockdown limped back to the ship the beast still attached to the leash as he Finally made it up the ramp and onto the ship.  Once the hatch opened the warm air blanketed him in an embracing manner and the cat willingly entered the ship.  His joints and frame immediately welcomed the warmth of his ship.  He paused just inside to shed the cloak and try and get his joints and frame to thaw out a little.  

Lockdown leaned against the wall, looking around the compartment, the items Vril had promised were sitting in the bay.  Prompt as always, the Brainiac.  Lockdown punched the wall three times before giving a shout, “Prowl!  I’m back!”

Prowl smiled as he left the galley, “Hey.  How’d it go?”  The black and white Praxian held a steam cube of energon with noodles in it.  Soup most likely, the kid must have wanted a nice warm meal.  Something Lockdown had hoped Prowl made more than one serving of.

“Good.  Did you give Vril the envelope?”

Prowl nodded the tray still having steam come from the cube, looking more enticing by the second.

“Good.  He give you the name of the client?”

“Bravada,” answered Prowl.  He took a step toward the entertainment room where he had left the sparkling and his mate earlier.  “Contact information is on your pilots’ chair.  Figured it was best for you to decide if you wanted to pursue it.”

“Did you look at the job details?” asked Lockdown Curious as the cat wandered still attached to the leash.  

“No.  Is that Pixel?” asked Prowl.

“It’s _a_ cat.  I just hope it’s the right one.  Fraggin’ thing was a glitch to get too.  It just _loafed_ there _mocking me_.”

“Language Lockdown.  There's a sparkling on board.  I doubt her creators will appreciate Rerun learning new vocabulary words,” stated Prowl as he entered the entertainment room.  He paused the door sliding open revealing a quiet sparkling watching a sparkling movie.  One of the few Lockdown had on file with in the Death’s Head.  Prowl might have go and download a few more so they didn’t have a bored sparkling on their hands.  

“Rerun, I brought you your soup, but Lockdown brought something you might like to see,” stated Prowl.  He turned to Lockdown as he limped toward the room, the cat following at a much more annoyed pace.  

“Pixel!” shouted Rerun as she threw off her blankets and ran to the cat on the leash.  The cat tugged at the leash and Lockdown released the cat, so she might enjoy her time with her friend.  Rerun picked up Pixel and hugged her firmly.  “I missed you!  I love you Pixel!”

Prowl smiled to Lockdown, he noticed the taller mechs limp as he had walked up to the door.  Prowl walked over to the coffee table and set the tray down and watched the two for a while.  The sparkling clearly loved the cat, and Rerun was happier than they had probably been in a long time.

“Good job Lockdown,” smiled Prowl as he walked up to the taller green and black mech before kissing him.  “You’ve made Reruns day.  Let’s see if I can’t do anything about that foot of yours.”

Prowl assisted the Bounty Hunter to the couch, the opposite end of the couch from where Rerun was sitting.  The officer stood straight and grabbed one of the blankets they had used for Rerun and placed one over Lockdown.  “I’ll get you some soup too.  Don’t worry.  And I’ll bring some energon for Pixel.”  The animal had to be hungry after an unknown amount of time outside the compound with no food.

Once Prowl Left Lockdown watched the sparkling switch between playing with Pixel and taking bites of the soup Prowl had made for them.  The red opticed mech couldn’t help but smile at the young one excited to have their best friend back to hug and love on for as long as possible.  The beast didn’t seem to mind either.  Lockdown rested his helm in his hand, propped up by the couch’s arm.  The movie played in the background the sparkling no longer focused on the magic happening on screen but more so the magic of having their best friend back.

Lockdown looked up when Prowl returned to the room, a tray in his hands holding a first aid kit, as well as a bowl and a cube of hot energon soup for Lockdown.  Prowl set the bowl of energon down on the floor close to Pixel and allowed her to eat the meal.  

Rerun smiled to Prowl beaming, “Thank you!”

Prowl smiled back, “You’re very welcome.”  Prowl turned to Lockdown and made his way to the ankle Lockdown had apparently hurt while hunting down Pixel to bring to Rerun.  Prowl put the tray on Lockdowns lap, extending the feet of the trey so that they rested on the couch cushion on either side of the mecha and allowed him to eat while Prowl looked over the mechas ankle.

He moved it around to get a better look at the joint, finding it worked properly.  “Looks fine, you must have just sprained it.  I think you’ll live.”

Lockdown sipped at the soup, slurping a noodle.  “Good. Gotta get those machines installed and then we’ll head off to Caminus to return Rerun and Pixel to her parents.”

“Sounds like a plan,” stated Prowl as he stood from his kneeling position of looking at Lockdowns ped.

Prowl relaxed against the edge of the couch on the floor of the ship.  He watched as the two ate their meals.  The cat working on hers between warming herself over a vent and playing with her person.  Eventually empty cubes littered the coffee table and waited to be cleaned.  Once Lockdown finished his meal Prowl stood, gathering the tray, and stacking the empty cubes and the first aid kit onto the tray.  

He smiled to Lockdown before retreating from the room, a new movie was put on for the sparkling.  He returned to the galley and cleaned the cubes as well as he could.  Lockdown soon joined him in the Galley, the limping had diminished ever so slightly, the Bounty Hunters foot joint was healing.

“How’d you get to be so good with kids?  Special enforcer class or something officer Friendly?” asked Lockdown as he leaned against the counter Prowl had been placing the clean dishes on.

“I have one,” answered Prowl.

“You… have a special class?”  asked Lockdown slowly unsure what he was referring to.

“No, I have a sparkling, well he was a newling really.  He’s an adult now,” clarified Prowl.

“Really?” asked Lockdown.  

“Yes.  He was _awarded_ to me for speaking out against the wrongdoings of my department head before the war.”

“Sounds rough.  Did you have anyone to help you with the kid?”

“Like a mate?  No.  I had Jazz and Ironhide at the time.  Jazz and I grew up together, Ironhide was my partner on the force at the time.”

“So, who’s your kiddo?”

“His names Smokescreen.  He recently joined the Elite Guard before I left.  We never really got along.  I wasn’t really the best parent to him, but I Love him, and I hope the Autobots is working out for him.”

Lockdown was silent for a while, he hadn’t known that Prowl had left behind a child.  He worried that the offer he had extended to Prowl, the one the officer had taken, might have caused a rift between Smokescreen and Prowl.  He would have to apologize fully to Prowl and the kid.  Should either one survive this horrendous war.

“I didn’t know you had a kid, I would have offered he could have come to.”

“I don’t think he would have been interested in joining us,” stated Prowl.  “He’s wanted to be in the Elite guard since the creation of the division.  I couldn’t deny him that.  He’s happy there.”

“You don't think he’s gonna be sold out like you were?”

Prowl went silent placing the last cube on the counter that Lockdown was leaning on and releasing the solvent down the drain to be filtered and reused.  “It's unlikely, but if he feels the need to leave the faction he can always call me.  He knows how to get in touch with me.”

Lockdown nodded, deciding to remain quiet for a few minutes before leaving the galley.  He felt guilty having taken a creator away from their sparkling, adult or not.

He walked through the galley door and out into the ships maze of hallways, he hummed as he came into the Bay, face to face with the items he had bartered from Vril Dox.

Lockdown eventually settled and started looking at the machinery that Vril had delivered.  The Bounty Hunter did a mental checklist on the items making sure that everything that accounted for - including the formula to input into the machine to make energon.  Coluans, who knew they could be so helpful.

…

Eventually Groons had passed before Prowl came in to check on Lockdown.  The machinery had been put into where he had wanted it and the black and green mecha was currently, hanging off a counter attempting to hardwire the machine into the ships existing wiring.

“Lockdown?  Sweet spark? It’s late.  Reruns trying to recharge,” stated Prowl.  His own exhaustion leaking in with every glyph he spoke.  The officer let it go unspoken that he too was attempting to recharge.  Prowl was unsure if Rerun was actually bothered by the noise Lockdown was making, all he knew is that he was tired, and he wanted Lockdown to join him in their nice comfortable recharge slab.

“I just gotta get this done - then I can have G.O.A.T. take us out of here on Autopilot - then I’ll come recharge - Promise, but right now, all the power to the ship has been cut so I can work on this, so I can’t just leave it be.”

Prowl hummed defeated, and shuffled back into the bowels of the ship, even the emergency lights that were usually on at night were powered down, it would have been hard for Prowl to navigate had he not had the door panel sensors sticking out of his back.

Lockdown paused momentarily to watch the other leave, he smirked soon returning to previous perch-laying on the countertop his helm and torso wedged behind the new energon machine and the outer wall of the ship.

“Just a few more wires,” mumbled Lockdown to himself as he connected the last few before using the wall and his hook to put himself upright again.  As always it took him longer to get it done than a mecha with two functional hands, but it got done.

Lockdown shook the dust off his good hand by wiping it on his thigh, leaving a dust mark he would have to wash off eventually.  He had followed the instructions left by Vril.  Vril had given him a lot more than what he had expected.  The machines not only made energon for Prowl and Lockdown to consume the machines also worked with the solar panels that already charged the battery of the ship to convert solar radiation into fuel and energon.  With a mind like Vrils’ it was possible all Cybertrons Problems could be solved.  Though it was unlikely that either side would listen.

Lockdown eventually made it to the fuse box before he reactivated everything on the ship.  One by one as he flipped fuses the ship came to life, starting with the basement, already in a complete lockdown the beast with in snarling and moaning at the return of electricity, hoping he would get a delicious spark to eat.  The next was sectors 2 and 4 on the main level of the ship.  Sector 4 included the cargo bay and the galley, sector 2 the entertainment room and the storage room.  Soon enough the rest of the ship was powered back on and ready for instructions, all G.O.A.T. had to do was boot up and await command.

Lockdown walked quickly to the helm of his ship, listening to the quantum engines spin beginning the process of warming up.  The black and green mecha finally makes it to the helm of his ship as he listens to his ship warm up.  

“G.O.A.T.,” ordered Lockdown as he waited for the ship to beep and acknowledge his order, “perform regular startup checklist, once lift off has completed set course for Caminus.  Warp 2.3”

:: Affirmative,:: stated the ship back to its captain.

Lockdown sat in the chair watching as G.O.A.T. ran through the checklist and started getting ready for takeoff.  Once he heard the engines spinning and the landing gear hiss with relief and fall back into place as the Death’s Head rose through the troposphere, then the stratosphere, mesosphere, thermosphere, exosphere, then finally into the stars.  

Lockdown made his way through the ship to the bedroom he shared with Prowl.  The officer rolled over, his visor retracted revealing two blue green optics one damaged beyond repair.  Prowl smiled as Lockdown crawled into bed with his mate and wrapped his arms around the smaller mech being careful of his hook and nuzzling his helm into the black and white plating.  

Prowl relaxed, cuddling next to the other the taller mech being a great source of warmth on the cold that had seeped in from the coluan market planet.  Prowl soon settled down as Lockdown listened for the engines to hit warp 1, 1.5 - two and a bit of turbulence was hit, he would have to fix that hiccup, and finally warp 2.3 the ship going steady as it settled into the speed.  They would be in Caminus space in about a week.  

…

Living with a Sparkling for a week had probably done the both some good.  The sparkling kept Prowl from losing himself in his depression for now at the very least.  With someone to look after and keep alive it seemed that Prowl was improving health wise himself.  Prowl was looking better and better as the week went by.  Lockdown had half a mind to just keep the sparkling, but he knew that this was just a band aid, this sparkling - no sparkling could - but a band aid could only hold Prowl together for so long.  Eventually They would have to stop and chat about what was going on - have Prowl work through everything and just allow him to grieve for a while.  

The week had passed quickly, the sparkling having filled their free time with requests for stories, and attention it had made the trip seem much less long.  Time seemed to fly by as the Death’s Head was contacted by the planet they were approaching.

:: This is Caminus Space, Identify yourself. ::

“Lockdown, captain of the Death’s Head.  We carry precious cargo, do not fire.”

:: Precious Cargo? ::

“Correct, a sparkling named Rerun.  We rescued her from a Quintesson slave trade in Coluan space.”

:: Land at coordinates, 43.0125274, -83.687456. ::

“Affirmative,” stated Lockdown as he made the appropriate adjustments to the Ships telemetry.  They would be landing in a little run-down city, compared to the rest of the somewhat thriving planet.  The descent through the atmosphere could be heard as gravity started pulling his ship closer and closer.  The impulse engines fired, making their drop steady rather than at terminal velocity.  The ship creaking could be heard between the sparklings joyous laughter and the cat’s playful noises.

Soon enough the landing gear finally touched the surface of the planet, a crowd had already begun to gather in front of the ship.  Officers of the law, dignitaries, elders, sparklings, and young adults alike gathered around waiting to see what the newcomers bring for them.

Lockdown leaves the command module of his ship, going to the cargo bay doors, and taking a small detour on the way letting Prowl know where they landed.  The black and white mech only nods to Lockdown before returning his attention to keeping the sparkling busy till they can contact their creators.

The black and green mech eventually makes it to the air lock control panel.  “ G.O.A.T. initiate self-defense protocol,” ordered Lockdown.  The ship would allow anyone on board but would fight back it anyone on board were attacked or messed with in a malicious manner.  Lockdown pressed the button to first lower the ramp, the beeping noise alerting the crowd that the ramp was slowly descending from the ship and to stand back.  Soon after the ramp started lowering he pressed the button to open the hatch to the cargo bay.  

“I need to speak with one of your officers of the law,” stated Lockdown knowing this was the best way to go about this - he didn’t want the sparkling going to anyone but their creators.

Two black and white officers with light bars and visors approached the ramp, Lockdown nodded and greeted them, then motioned for them to come up the ramp.  “We picked up this kid, from the Quentesson run Cybertronian slave trade in Coluan space, Rerun said she was from Caminus.  I tried to get in contact with you guys as early as possible, but I wasn’t able to make much of a connection,” admitted Lockdown.

One officer radioed command attempting to get information about the sparkling and the newcomer.  The other kept his attention on the Bounty Hunter and attempted to keep conversation going.  “We’ve been having trouble with deep space communication lately.  But I’m sure where ever her creators are they will appreciate having her back.”

Lockdown nodded, he was certain that Reruns creators would be more than happy to have their sparkling back.  Many creators would love to have their sparkling returned to them in such cases.

The other officer nodded and returned to the other twos conversation.  “The Mistress of Flame received word of your arrival and has the sparklings creators on their way.  They should be here very soon.”

Lockdown nodded, “Thank you.”

The two officers nodded, one spoke up, “we will stand guard outside and we will approach once The Mistress of flame arrives with her creators.”

Lockdown nodded trusting the two officers not to steal anything and he turned his back to them as they walked down the ramp making sure no one was able to get inside the ship unless they were expected to be here.  The black and green mecha entered the entertainment room, the sparkling laying on the floor coloring with a data pad and stylus while Pixel loafed on the arm of the chair.  Pixel hissed, and Lockdown was sure the cat was mocking him, still.

“Alright,” smiled Lockdown, “Looks like I got us some good news!  Rerun, your Creators are on their way. So, we’re going to help you pack.”  Lockdown kneeled knowing there was some stuff Rerun had grown attached to, the data pads, with her drawings were some of the items Rerun had grown to enjoy.  The black and green mech heled pack a storage cube of the things she had used, before the door opened and in came two excited adult Camiens.  

Prowl and Lockdown stood back as they watched the touching reunion.  Carrier, Sire, and sparkling were reunited, and the warm fuzzy feeling settled between the two who had rescued the sparkling.  Lockdown wrapped his good arm around his mate, his black arm settling on the officer’s white shoulders between his helm and his door wings.  This felt _good_ to do for another being.  

“I kind of want one,” muttered Lockdown.

Prowl only sighed having heard the others comment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Autobotwheelie and her beautiful fur-ever friend who she recently lost, Mewsic.
> 
> Thank you so much for everything you've helped me through. You're an amazing person.


	5. Asteroid Filler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lockdown and Prowl go through an asteroid field and come across some clients who never take no for an answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna say sorry, it took me three weeks to write this and its filler trash so... sorry.

Prowl sat at the navigation station as Lockdown maneuvered the ship through the quantum asteroid field.  He remained mostly silent keeping an optic on their shields and attempting to keep updated on the asteroids as the jump from place to place.  It was infuriating that they needed to go through this asteroid belt.  Prowl sighed, glancing from the navigation unit to the view screen.  

Lockdown kept his cool, remaining silent as he avoided all the asteroids with complete precision.  The only redeeming quality they had at this point was that once they figured out the pattern it was easy for Lockdown to maneuver them safely though the field.  

Prowl performed another scan, Lockdown having warned him that pirates enjoyed this area of space, and fancy modded ship like his own was going to be a major target - especially with his reputation as a bounty hunter as good as it is.

The radar scanned, and Prowl waited for the information to come up on the terminal.  A few were asteroids but there were two ships that were approaching.  “We have two unidentified ships incoming at 4 and 9, possible it could be a coordinated attack.”

Lockdown hummed, taking a moment to fully concentrate on the piloting he needed to do before him.  “Alright - you’re tactical right?  Plug into the ship and work your magic.  Can’t pilot through this and do that.”

Prowl nodded, allowing his systems to synchronize up with the ships tactical systems.  Weapons came online, and his HUD informed him of all the new peripherals he had.  Every tactical weapon and scanner the Death’s Head had was available to him now and he could calculate more thoroughly what they needed to do to keep the two at bay.  They were just lucky they took a break at that solar system with the two suns to scrape space barnacles off the ship’s hull and fill the ship with fuel via solar panels at the same time.

Bank left 45 degrees

Down 15 degrees

Up 75 degrees

It took Prowl a while before he was able to fully stabilize and orientate to the movements of the ship in comparison to the enemy ships.  Prowl performs another scan as he hits another asteroid, a warning shot for the approaching vessels.  Lockdown performs another maneuver, bank right 60 degrees.

The ship shakes, Prowl holding onto the tactical console he’s currently synchronized with as he stares at Lockdown making sure he was okay.  Lockdown grins back, “Miscalculation, can’t win ‘em all Prowler.”

Prowl returns to his issue at hand and continues to fire on the quickly approaching vessels.  He performed a scan on the two ships as they grew closer, a third coming up on their stern.  Prowl took a closer look at the third ship - far too large to be part of the two original vessels.  A second more intrusive scan would give Prowl a clearer visual as to what’s going on.

Prowl paused his optics going wide when he figured out what the third ship was, “Lockdown!  We have a huge problem!  The Peaceful Tyranny.”

Lockdown hummed, frustrated with the situation.  Of course, it had to be Tarnand his goons.  They just had to have a need for his services right at this second, and it wasn’t like Lockdown could say no.  “Go.  Lock yourself in our quarters, hide under the berth - or the closet.  Just stay out of sight.  No matter what got it?”

Prowl nodded starting the process of safely disconnecting from the ship.  Prowl stopped to say one last word to Lockdown before he would answer the comm call.  One shouldn’t keep Tarn waiting for too long.  Mecha often lost limbs that way.  “Just be careful.”

“You know I will Prowler,” answered Lockdown.  The black and green mech continued to navigate through the asteroid belt, he eventually left the helm of the ship to hide in their quarters incase Tarn decided he wanted to talk face to face with Lockdown about the job they wanted him doing.  Lockdown hated catching targets for the DJD, and he knew Prowl wasn’t too keen on it either but the DJD paid the bills.

Lockdown pressed a button, avoiding another of the asteroids as he finally made his way out of the quantum asteroid belt.  He turned the Autopilot on once more to resume course, though on impulse engines only.

“Tarn,” greeted Lockdown, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The black and green mecha was greeted to the purple and black mechs decepti-badge mask, his red optics glowing behind it.  Lockdown had figured he’d grown used to the others visage. It still gave him the creeps to see it even now, but then again that was the point of Tarns mask, to frighten decepticon traitors.

:: Lockdown.  I see you have two pirate vessels approaching your ship.  I have a high-profile target that Lord Megatron demands with in the quartex.   He is willing to pay you double your usual payment. ::

Lockdown watched as Tarn twitched, attempting to stop himself from changing something, the damn mecha was still addicted to transforming.  Tarn had bought him out of T-cogs the last time they met.  Lockdown had been able to get two t-cogs since then, and since they weren’t going to Cybertron any time soon, the t-cogs were to be saved for him and Prowl should they happen to burn through their own.

“You know high profile means triple my usual payment right?” asked Lockdown as got more comfortable in his chair.  

:: I think you will accept  **double** your usual payment and getting these organics off your thrusters.  Those are the terms Lockdown.  Accept them or be annihilated. ::

Well who could argue with those terms?  Lockdown was technically a neutral, though he worked more for the Decepticons since they were willing to pay better than the Autobots.  He knew that the DJD had no problems with going after him as a Decepticon deserter if he refused to service them.  The only thing Lockdown was thankful for is that so far they didn’t want anything too far out of his personal boundaries.

“Send the job description to me and I’ll meet you at the usual pick up spot,” stated Lockdown.  He had dealt with Tarn enough to know their pattern by now.  Tarn sends the job data, Lockdown captures the target, he takes the Target to Lunar base 2 for exchange, Lockdown gets paid, they go their separate ways till they need his services again.  This time it would be a bit of a change since Prowl was on board, but they could pull it off.

:: Excellent.  1 quartex, Lunar base 2. ::

It was the last thing the other had said before signing off and the ship pinging the new message was received.  It had to be the job Lockdown had just taken.  As promised the Peaceful Tyranny started turning around and blasted the two ships that had been heading toward them.  Lockdown watched the feed on the vid-screen from the rear cameras on the ship.

The first ship imploded organic bodies decompressing as tiny pixels on the vid-screen.  The second ship was hit twice before imploding with the same vigor as the smaller ship.  Lockdown smirked, taking control over the Autobot pilot, and maneuvering them to their drop off point.  They had a whole quartex to capture the bounty for Tarn.  They had to finish their current job first, Bravada was paying quadruple what Lockdown normally asked for these items, the one who pays most, comes first.

Lockdown eventually got far enough away from the quantum asteroid field to start using warp engines again.  He set a course to their destination point and engaged the warp drive before leaving Autopilot in charge of how they were to get there, to drop off the items Bravada had asked for.

He walked back to their quarters, first looking under the bed, decorated with pillows and sheets, something that Prowl had added since moving in with him.  It was nice to have the luxuries of pillows and sheets rather than just the cold hard recharge slab like he was used to.  Praxians knew how to live - well recharge apparently.

Once he found the bottom of the slab empty Lockdown moved onto the closet, the other place where it was best for Prowl to hide, at least there was a maintenance hatch inside the closet Prowl could use to escape of the need ever arose.  “Prowl, they’re leaving.  Took out the two pirate vessels too on their way out.”

The officer nodded and started making the effort to stand up in the cramped closet area as Lockdown opened the door.  

“You know, I still don’t get it,” started Prowl.  “If they’re just going to talk to you on the vid screen why do I have to hide in our quarters every time they want to chat?”

“Because we don’t know that that’s  _ all _ they want to do,” stated Lockdown as he extended a hand to Prowl to assist him in exiting the storage area.  “Tarns a weirdo, he’s going to want to chat face to face next time.”

“How do you know that?” asked Prowl as he stepped over the barricade he had made between where he had been and the door.  And extra layer of protection.  

“He’s got a job for us- well for me since they don’t know we’re workin’ together,” stated Lockdown.  “Said they’d pay double their usual, on top of getting rid of those space pirates.  I don’t really have much of a choice in accepting their targets or not.”

“I know,” stated Prowl placing a hand over the others chest plate.  “Just do the job and get them off our backs for a while.”

Lockdown smirked to the other before Prowl started making his way out of the room.  “I have the ship going toward the spot where we told Bravada we’d meet him.  So, we have plenty of time to just… do… stuff,” offered Lockdown with that trademark grin of his.

Prowl stopped in the middle of the doorway as it was opening to glanced back at Lockdown.  “Lockdown, it’s not a good idea, you know how you get - especially when you’re going to be making a deal with Bravada in a few hours.”

“You want me cranky and frustrated when I make deals?” asked Lockdown as he wrapped both his arms around the smaller black and white mecha.

“No, but you argue for better deals when you haven’t had an interfacing session before hand,” retorted Prowl.

Lockdown huffed and released the shorter mech from his embrace.  Prowl smiled up to him even though he removed himself from the others personal space.  Prowl closed the gap between them and kissed him, before making an offer.

“go look at the new job and I’ll see if we can start tracking him,” started Prowl.  

“Uh, hate to burst your bubble there Prowler but you ain’t doin’ this job.  This Job requires going back to Cybertron.  You’re planting your aft on this ship and you ain't movin’,” stated Lockdown firmly.  It wasn’t order - no he could never order Prowl to do anything the kid was stubborn, but he wasn’t going to allow the Autobots to take Prowl either.  He knew the look the kid was giving him, and it was one where Prowl would argue with him, loudly about what he couldn’t and couldn't do.  Something that both admired and disliked about the black and white praxian.

“Look let's just get this to Bravada and then I will handle the DJD Bounty,” stated Lockdown.  

Prowl only hummed sitting in the comm station as they continued their journey to Bravada’s meeting spot.  The journey was quiet and tense between the two.  Prowl hadn’t moved from his spot, they both remained silent even as they landed.  

Lockdown grabbed the item Bravada had asked for and turned to Prowl.  “You stay here kid, should be any easy drop off then I do the DJD job and we can finally move on to our next job after that.”

Prowl only nodded to the other before he Lockdown turned, the package in his hand and ready for drop off.  He would sit in this spot till Lockdown came back, keeping an optic on the rear cargo hatch ensuring their stash of mods and other Knick knacks would be unharmed.  

Prowl just hoped that this wouldn't take very long.

  
  



	6. Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lockdown makes a deal with the DJD's Target, while Prowl is approached by an old friend with dubious intent.

Prowl had paced the command center of the ship the entire time Lockdown had been on this hunt. It was supposed to be simple - or so Lockdown had promised. Wing, their target, who was currently seeking asylum with Prowls own kin. Yoketron might not have been his creator by energon, but he was a great mentor. He sat in the captain's chair his helm resting in his palm, propped up by his elbow his free hand tapping his digits against the armrest in a regular rhythm.

He hummed as he glanced at the security cameras that Lockdown had installed on the ship. This was dangerous for him to be out here, on Cybertronian Ground when Autobots had a bounty over his helm and knew what Lockdowns ship looked like. Though it wasn’t like it was hard to notice the Death’s Head it was a unique ship. The only thing that might stop Autobots from approaching was the fact they were on sacred ground.

Yoketron, if he was even still alive, would never have allowed fighting to happen on this sacred Praxain ground. This was supposed to be an asylum for faction deserters, a place where he could have gone for sanctuary and been all right, had Lockdown not been there to offer his help in getting him away from the Autobots.

Prowl leaned back in the chair attempting to relax, a knot started forming under his door wing. The familiar stressed out knot he had come to know very well in his short stay with the Autobots. He rocked back and forth in the captain's chair then leaned forward and swayed the chair side to side. Primus Lockdown was going to give him a spark attack.

The Ship was cloaked, hidden in plain sight. It gave them both a tactical advantage as well as hid them from any Autobots or Deceptions who dared scar this sacred land. He and Lockdown were already pushing the limit on what was acceptable on these lands.

...

Lockdown waded through the sludge swamp, the bridge had been dismantled, piece by piece, none too kindly either. The mecha, his target, living out here didn’t want to be disturbed. Lockdown snarled something gross and slimy touched his peds under the murky sludge. A Dojo appeared in the distance, It a familiar sight to Lockdown. The building was in shambles, something he was glad that Prowl didn’t have to see on this mission. He had known the kid studied Metallica- the only master the special art had was Yoketron, and the few had been deemed disciplined enough to finish the training and be accepted into the elite club.

Lockdown had started training in the ancient art long ago.  Though he had never had the discipline to seek the end of his training, very few had the patience to go through all 33 trials to become a master. Lockdown had only made it to the 9th trial before he had called it quits. It would have been a useful thing to use against his targets, but it wasn’t worth the effort and time. When he could have been putting the effort in toward making money.

Soon enough Lockdown emerged from the lake of sludge, hoping that whatever filled that damn lake wasn’t going to get too comfortable in his Joints.  The last thing he needed was his already declining health getting worse. He had never counted himself ‘lucky’ to have been from Kaon, but at least all they had to deal with was piping hot  _ smelting pools _ , not this cold sludge that seemed to act as a moat around the dojo. He did his best to stay as quiet as possible while also attempting to get all the sludge out of his joints.

He paused as the building came into more detailed the view the fog had been dense only showing a shadow of the building from the other side of the moat. The building was in poor condition, support beams were the only thing that withstood the raid on Praxian land. The outside of the dojo was crumbling, there was hardly anything left of the outside structure.

The black and green bounty hunter circled the dojo, looking for any sign of life within the damaged building. Wires hung from the ceiling long lost was its connection to any power that Cybertron had offered it.  Yoketron had never utilized luxuries such as electricity while he had been master of this domain.

Once he had completely circled the trashed building, it seemed the Decepticons had left no stone unturned in their raid on the holy Praxian ground. He found it hard to believe Yoketrons dojo was considered Praxian city limits. It was surreal having known what it was before the stench of Death was laid upon this land and the silent screams of Praxians filled the air leaving only an eerie feeling to anyone who dared disturb their resting place.

Lockdown kept silent stepping quietly as to not disturb his target or the ground beneath his peds. One was never sure what was lurking below the catacombs of the planet. Be they Autobot, Decepticon, or some looser looking to get his jollies.

He leaned into the largest piece of wall left from the dojo’s glory days. Acid rain had melted a few of the finer materials used to make the wall. The raindrops having put a unique design on the side of the wall. They told a story where each acid raindrop had fallen in the 1 million years since Praxis’ fall.

He remained as silent as he could as he attempted to get a look at his target, get an idea of what he was going to have to get ready for fight wise. Lockdown brought up the package of info he had downloaded about his target. He glanced at the two silhouetted frames sitting what used to be the meditation mats.

A picture of the target appeared over one of the figures, Wing. Lockdown could only guess why the DJD was going after Wing of all people, but it wasn’t his job to guess. He wouldn’t get paid with guesses. His job was to take Wing in and let the DJD do what they needed to with him. Lockdown emerged from behind the wall, as silent as any mecha could, his muffled his engine, ensuring that neither would hear him approach.

Lockdown had made it close before his engine stalled in surprise there was a kid, he couldn’t be more than 16,000. The stalling of his engine alerted the elder mech, Wing. A sharpened sword graced his vision, and he brought his hand and hook in the air, the universal sign that he didn’t mean any harm, well at this moment… for now.

“Wake the kid and you’re a dead mech walking,” whispered Wing as threatening as he could.

Lockdown glanced at the kid attempting to get a better look at him when his targets engine rumbled intensely. A growl escaped Wings vocoder and Lockdown glanced back up at the target. “Well, frag,” sighed Lockdown. There wasn’t any way in good conscience he could take this kids guardian to the DJD. But he also couldn’t let Wing go either - Tarn had asked him to do a job. He would have to do this job or the DJD would kill them both, or worse leave the kid with no one.

“I’m here to make a deal with you,” started Lockdown. There wasn’t any way he could save Wings life, he was stuck between a rock and the DJD. One way or another Wing was going into the DJDs custody. Lockdown would prefer it be on Wings terms - even if he wasn’t fond of the terms to which he would be agreeing upon.

“You want to make a deal?” asked Wing quietly. “Deal for what?”

Lockdown was quiet for a while attempting to come up with a sensitive way to say that Wing wasn’t going to live. That no matter what Wing chose, he was going to die at the hands of the DJD. It was up to Wing to decide whether the kid died with him or not.

“There is a bounty on your helm,” started Lockdown. “DJD issued.”

Wing was silent for several seconds as he allowed what Lockdown had said to sink in. “So, you’re what? Telling me so I can run?” asked Wing for clarification. He was as aware of the DJDs reputation for never letting a target get away alive as anyone else.

“You and I both know that that is not an option,” answered Lockdown. “Tarn isn’t going to just let you walk away. You and I both know that. The only reason I’m telling you and not just capturing you is 'cause of that kid.” Lockdown motioned to the adolescent sports car currently curled up and recharging.

Lockdown was silent for a while, He hoped that what he was saying was getting through to Wing. “Look, Wing, you got two options with how this goes down. Both end with you dead. You can either A. Come with me willingly with the kid, I turn you in. I take responsibility for the kid and whatever Bounty we get goes directly to the kid, so he can get upgrades. Option B. You run with the kid, I won’t follow, but the DJD catches you both and annihilates both you and the kid. You know as well as I do the DJD won’t go easy on him cause he’s a kid.”

Wing was silent for a while thinking everything over, either he could go in a way he chooses to go, or he and Drift would never be safe, and the DJD always caught up on the list. And it was his turn to pay the price for deserting his faction and betraying the Decepticon cause. He knew he had been on borrowed time. He could only hope that things could go well for Drift.

“You’re sure he will be safe with you?” asked Wing. He glanced to Lockdown uncertain how much he can trust his word. After all, he was a  _ bounty hunter _ . Their word was only worth the highest bidder.

“I know he’ll be safer with me than with the DJD,” offered Lockdown. It was a strong counterpoint. Even if the DJD was feeling merciful that day the kid was better off alone than a DJD play-thing for their pet.

“How do I know that once they find out about him, you aren’t just going to give him up to the DJD?” asked Wing. He trusted Lockdown about as far as he could throw a metro-titan. “Especially if they put enough money above his helm?”

Lockdown glanced around quick and ensured they were alone. He sent out an EMP blast in close range with one of his mods, ensuring that it shorted out non-sentient mechanics. He couldn’t afford Prowls name getting out, or where he was. “I got Prowler, former SIC-elect of the Autobots on my ship. His Bounty is 4 times bigger than yours is currently. I ain’t brought him in -”

“Yet.”

“I will never surrender Prowl for any amount of credits,” stated Lockdown warned. “The same goes for the kid. If you want I can take him and find him a good home. I won’t keep him on board. I can scout out potential guardians to take care of him, on colony worlds, neutral camps, anything away from the war.”

Wing nodded and sighed. “Agreed,” stated Wing holding out his hand opposite of Lockdowns hand. “We will go with you willingly but there are terms and conditions that must be met before I am traded to the DJD.”

Lockdown nodded, “I expected nothing less. I will do my best to try and live up to those demands.”

Wing nodded and glanced back at the kid, he had only recently gotten into recharge. It was likely the longest recharge he had been able to get for a long long time. He glanced to Lockdown, “Can we wait until he wakes up? He’s had a rough couple days.”

Lockdown glances around ensuring that no one else was around to either claim the bounty or worse to find him. Neither Autobots nor Decepticons could be trusted, since capturing one of the mechas on the list was likely to put you on Tarns good side, or at least lower on the list.

“Yeah, we can wait.  Tell me about the kid,” stated Lockdown as both him and Wing got comfortable at what was once the entrance of the Dojo.

Wing leaned against one of the more stable walls that remained of the Dojo. “His name was Deadlock, he goes by Drift now. He was just a kid who was born in Decepticon Territory, raised by other ‘cons and wanted a change of spark,” started Wing as he continued to go through everything he knew about the kid.

Lockdown listened as Wing went on, making sure to send a few notes to the Death's Head in case his memory core decided to quit again.

…

Prowl sat in the captain’s chair, his digits strumming along to a beat only heard in his helm. Some song Jazz had taught him during their time on medical leave after the fall of Praxus. He hummed some of the tune attempting to get his nerves to calm down. He tensed when the Death’s Heads comm unit light up with a new message, Lockdown was sending notes. Prowl peeked at one of the notes sent, he wasn’t sure what it meant but it was too dangerous to attempt non-encrypted communication. He’d have to find out when Lockdown came home.

Prowl stood up straight glancing back to the captain's chair as the security terminal beeped. The Praxian walked over to the terminal and pressed the button that was blinking in coordination with the irritating beeping. He sighed as the camera came up on the view screen.

Jazz.

Prowl wasn’t excited to see Jazz on the view screen it meant one of two things. Either he was drawing Prowl out for a trap, or he wanted to speak to him. Either way, it wasn’t going to be a pleasant experience. Especially since Prowl had no way of knowing which side Jazz planted himself. Either he believed Prime was in the right or he was. There was no in-between. To Prowl there was no neutral ground. Somewhere deep inside - even for the war - those that claimed to be neutral they had a side that they wanted to win, but they didn’t want to work for it.

He contemplated letting Jazz think no one was home. Though there was a certain probability that Jazz would start looking through the ship until he found someone or something. If it  _ was _ a trap Prowl might be able to see how to disarm the thing, but there was a doubt that Jazz would leave without his target in his custody. He started making his way down to the cargo bay, where Jazz was standing staring right into the camera, the silent look of ‘meet with me.’ in his optics, the same look he often got after a hard tactical meeting among the bots.

He approached the cargo bay weapons on high alert, the ships own internal weapons security system placed into a self-defense mode. The internal systems would only fire at Jazz if he attacked Prowl - Or Lockdown.

“Prowler old buddy,” grinned Jazz.

“Jazz.” It was all the other could muster up to say. He was still cautious of the other's presence on their ship, and likely whatever it was that Jazz wanted Prowl wasn’t sure if he was willing to listen. Though he had expected him to berate him for doing what he did. He also expected the other to  _ try _ and take him into Autobot custody.

“I’m not here to capture you,” stated Jazz as he put his hands up. He continued to keep his hands where Prowl could see them. “Look I don’t exactly agree with you leavin’ but I don’t agree with what Prime did neither,” explained Jazz. It didn’t answer Prowls internal questions, but it was enough to get Prowl to listen to what Jazz needed to say.

“Then what have you come here for?” asked Prowl. If Jazz wasn’t here to bring him into custody, there had to be some other reason that Jazz came out here to speak to him.

“The Ark.”

Prowl paused for a second, “The… Ark? From Nova Primes-”

“Yes.” answered Jazz. “We got our hands on a ship, Cybertron is dead or dying and there is nothing Prime can do to stop it. The war has finally killed our planet,” warned Jazz. This had always been a possibility, that war would kill their planet, but to know the end was so soon - or rather already here, it seemed so wrong. “We have the ark up and running though, but we got wind that a Decepticon assault is heading toward the ship. They’ve been space-bound since the early days of the war Prowl. This is our only chance to get the Prime off world and to regroup. Hopefully on a planet that has more energon.”

“And? What do you want me to do about this?” asked Prowl. So far, he didn’t see how this affected him or his wellbeing in any form.

“Well I was told to make you an offer,” stated Jazz. “Our current head of tactical can’t run a winning simulation on this, Elita has offered amnesty as well as your head of tactical position back, if you want, if you help us.”

Prowl went silent thinking long and hard about what he had been offered, he thought about a lot of things concerning what the Autobots can and can’t do without him. Whoever had taken his place wasn’t suited or educated in how to plan in tactical areas, the only place where the ARK could have come from was Iacon - one of the most urban places on the planet. He felt bad for the Autobots that were going to get caught in the crossfire. He felt bad that without Prowls input on this mission many mechas would die, even the Prime himself and the whole cause would go down with him.

“No.”

“Great we’l-No?”

“No.”

“Prowl, come on be reasonable,” begged Jazz.

“No Jazz. Optimus Prime made his bed, now he must lay in it. If they wanted to keep me around they would have talked to me before throwing me under the bus. Frag, if Optimus Prime was that desperate I wouldn’t put it past him to come here in person rather than send you. My gamble is that he sent you because we are friends. Or  _ she _ sent you because everyone knows we are friends. That I have a soft spot in my spark if you were the one to beg for my help. The damage is done Jazz. I will help  _ you _ if you need it, but I am not going to help the Autobot cause. They burned that bridge.”

Jazz only blinked at Prowls answer. He was silent for a while going over everything in his helm. There were points Prowl was attempting to make that made sense and others that seemed too off for him, but in most of the ways, Prowl was right. He had no reason to trust the Autobots after what Optimus had done to him. Allowing a councilor of all people to buy her way into the ranks rather than show her metal on the battlefield like Prowl, Jazz, and everyone else had when they joined. It brought a whole new meaning to what the Autobots stood for. Actions spoke louder than words.

“Is that all you came for?” asked Prowl.

“Officially? Yes. Unofficially: No.” Jazz fell silent once more. “How are things? Is Lockdown treating you good?”

“Lockdown is treating me very well. Perhaps once the war is over - if it ever ends, you two might be able to meet,” stated Prowl.

Jazz nodded, and a small smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, I’d like that. Someday.”

“You should go,” stated Prowl. “Can’t keep the Prime and his SIC waiting.”

“Right,” stated Jazz. “I’ve been trying to do my best keeping them off your trail. Just be careful OK, I eventually have to give them something good.”

Prowl nodded, “Thanks for the warning.”

Jazz nodded back as Prowl approached the hatch door and opened it for his guest. Jazz transformed and drove off going to give Prime and Elita the news that they were on their own.

....

Prowl had returned to the helm of the ship hours ago. He had begun pacing the control room waiting for word of when Lockdown might return. He had placed the ship under a better lock as to not be surprised by Jazz once more or worse, by an Autobot spy who wasn’t understanding of Prowls anger at the Autobots.

Eventually, the proximity alarm went off the view screen showed three mechas at the end of the ramp, Prowl smiled pressing a few buttons and unlocking the ship’s cargo bay. Prowl ran from the helm of the ship to the cargo bay and at the banister, he remained silent watching as the two mechas followed Lockdown up the ramp into the ship.

“Hey, Prowler I got some ‘splainin’ to do,” grinned Lockdown as he gestured to the two mechas beside him. Prowl could feel a processor ache begin to form. What had Lockdown gotten them into?


	7. Full Disclosure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Wing in their custody they finally make the trip to drop off their Bounty.

The silence between him and the two major players for the Autobots was deafening.  Jazz had known returning after not being able to convince the Autobots greatest tactician into returning would make their faction the losing side.  Already they had lost too many battles against the Decepticons. They had all the intel they could have ever wanted but not one to use the information properly in an urban setting.  

“I don't see why  _ he’s _ the one we’re begging to come back,” he heard Elita say as he waited to walk into the meeting room.  “He should be begging  _ us _ to come back.  Living with a brute like Lockdown?  Living with that no good Bounty Hunter, Prowls going to wake up with no limbs one day because of that scumbag.”

“Well, he’s not begging to come back,” stated Jazz, walking into the meeting room a scowl planted on his face.  “In fact he’s demanded we never contact him again.”

The femmes visage changed, annoyance and anger spewed from her optics.  “He should be fragging honored we even allowed him in the Autobots in the first place!  This is a dishonor on him! He should be begging for our mercy-”

“Elita, my dear, calm down,” Optimus said attempting to sooth the irate femme.  “It’s hardly the end of the world if Prowl decides not rejoin us. We will make due.”

Jazz stood opposite the power couple and he knew the two highest ranking Autobots courting was a bad idea.  He didn’t need Prowl to tell him that. They had made bigger bulls-eyes out of them themselves for entertaining such an idea.  This was not how things were supposed to progress.

“We’ll just have to make the ark work,” Optimus Said, placing his hands on top of Elitas.  “Even if we’re flying blind we’re going to have to make it work. This is our only hope of preserving Cybertron, of preserving our race.”

The femme seemed to calm down, her ruffled plating began to settle and Jazz could sense the anger leaving her frame.  Once Prime left though she would return to her angered state. Ready to argue with anyone who said she dared to buy her way into the Autobots.  Jazz still wasn’t convinced she was on their side, that she wasn’t some spy attempting to take Optimus’ life and win the war for the Decepticons.  

Optimus turned to Jazz, “can you come up with a team that will protect the ark as best they can?  We take flight in T minus 2 solar cycles.”

Jazz nodded happy to be allowed to leave now that he had orders he would have to deal with sickening scene no doubt to unfold upon this meeting room.  “Yes, sir.”

***

He was supposed to be recharging, it was the off cycle.  His processor kept him up, thinking about all the way taking in this kid even temporarily would be a major issue.  They couldn’t take care of this kid - especially not a teenager, not in the middle of a war it was dangerous to play house like this.  

“Officer Friendly, go to bed,” mumbled the mech laying beside him.  “I can feel you over thinking over there and that’s an amazing feat seeing as how we ain’t bonded.”

Prowl only lays back down on the berth, Lockdowns servo guiding him into the taller mechs embrace.  This still doesn’t sit well with him, ‘adopting’ this kid, taking him in just long enough to find home with mechs that would take care of him.  Trading his guardian to the DJD to be killed for credits. This was the part of the job that kept Prowl up at night. The ones where the target dies, where they know who the targets being handed off to is going to kill them.

Lockdown hummed, waiting for Prowls systems to settle down, his own optics offline, he was online just enough to make sure his partner got some kind of recharge tonight.  To Lockdown the wait seemed to take forever, it didn’t seem like Prowl was going to calm down anytime soon. He sighed and onlined his optics, moving the get a better look at his partner.  

“Prowler you need to recharge, I need you at the top of your game tomorrow-,” the bounty hunter pauses looking at his chronometer, “today.  So tell me what you want to do? Do we need to frag to tire you out or talk?” There was a reason Lockdown had said fragging first, it was the quicker option, and was guaranteed to only last a few minutes tops, talking while probably the better option had the possibility of keeping them  _ both _ a wake for the rest of the night.

Prowl didn’t know what he wanted, all he knew was that his CPU kept spitting out issues about keeping this kid, coupled with the information Jazz had given him, things were not going to end well.

“Cybertrons dieing.”

Talking it is, it was going to be a long night.  Lockdown scooted closer to Prowl wrapping him in a firm embrace, his hook keeping the Praxian firmly against his frame while his hand traced glyphs over Prowls doors wings in an attempt to calm him.

“How do you know Cybertron is dying?”

“Jazz stopped by while you were out getting Wing,” admitted Prowl.  “Asked me to come back to the Autobots on Primes behalf, they offered me my tactical position.”

There were a lot things in that sentence that bothered Lockdown the most important of which was that an  _ autobot _ had gotten close enough to his ship to drop off a tracker.  “ _ Jazz  _ stopped by?  Was it just him?  Did you  _ let _ him on the ship?”

With each question his tone got more and more accusational.  Prowl sat up, as had Lockdown, the others visage told him he was unhappy, Prowl wasn’t exactly happy either.  This had started out as an issue Prowl needed to talk out this new thing was probably going to end in a fight.

“No!  Give me a little credit Lockdown!  I didn’t let him onto our ship,” answered Prowl defensive and appalled that his lover would even think he would do something so stupid.

“Did he touch you?  Where’d he touch you?” asked Lockdown his voice getting louder and more demanding.  The muscle car started mech handling him, pulling Prowl up and patting him down, looking for anything out of place like a guard searching a prisoner.  “Did he leave your field of vision at any point? You should have told me as soon as I got back,” lectured Lockdown.

Prowl was tired, even in the middle of their conversation, his processor was still trying to catch up on what Lockdown was doing, he winced as Lockdown pulled something a little harder than he probably intended.  “What? He didn’t touch me! Lockdown - Lock- would you- We did-We didn’t do anything!” Prowl had finally been able to get himself out of Lockdowns grasp by the end of what he was attempting to say. “We’re not like that would you stop?”

Lockdowns optics grew bright with realization that Prowl  _ didn’t _ know what he was looking for, that he hadn’t caught on to what Jazz might have really been out here for.  Either he trusted Jazz in a stupidly blind fashion or he was  _ dense _ and his promotion to Autobot tactician merely coincidental.

“That’s not what I’m worried about Prowl,” started Lockdown, he stopped searching his lovers frame, he knew had it not been Jazz Prowl probably would have known what it was Lockdown was checking for.  “Look I know you trust Jazz, but I for one don’t,” stated Lockdown his Kaonite accent getting thicker with each word, the mech was tired it had been a long day for the both of them with heavy decisions having rested on them both.  “But He’s a spy, his job is to drag information outta bots like us to help his side. And whose to day that he didn’t place a tracker somewhere on you?”

Lockdown returned to going over every inch of his plating, after he explained his reasoning.  “Jazz wouldn’t do that,” answered Prowl. “He’s a better mech than that.” He didn’t try and pull away from Lockdown, as if to prove a point that Jazz wasn’t that kind of person.  Their friendship meant more than winning the war. Their friendship meant more than the obscene amount of credits over Prowls helm that seemed to grow every few months.

Right?

“He might not do it to you Darlin’ but he’d do it to me,” stated Lockdown.  He didn’t trust any of them. Jazz especially since he already had Prowls unwavering trust and loyalty.  There was so much damage that the other cyber-ninja could do to Prowl. If Jazz broke that trust, what little trust Prowl put into people anymore he might actually break the ex-’bot.  Lockdown wasn’t sure he was capable of fixing his lover should his Best Friend seem to betray him out of nowhere, but it was plausible outcome.

He continued to look over every inch of Prowls frame.  “Darlin’ I got a question for ya. Imma need that fancy tac net you got in your noggin’”  He watched as Lockdown carefully went over his frame piece by piece his hook arm careful as always when touching him, his good purple hand sending a tingling sensation through his frame, those digits seemed to only bring Prowls frame pleasure.

“Okay,” stated Prowl slowly, he wasn’t sure what Lockdown would want to ask but it couldn’t be good.  It was probably related to Jazz in some way more so the Autobots.

“Lay back,” ordered Lockdown lowly as he continued to look over the others frame, he had started at the peds and worked his way up, everything below the hip joints was clear, now he had to work his way through his groin plates and abdomen, then chest plates.  “Now use only you tac net. Is it on?”

He didn’t bother to wait for a response he knew when the thing was on, made Prowls systems run hotter than normal, and added an extra sound to his regular engine rhythm.  He knew the tac net system was always on, but Prowl controlled how much it was on. Prowl needed it on and active to survive in the real world. The mod was the only way to keep Prowl up and running.  “I want to know how likely it is that Optimus and Elita asked Jazz to plant a tracer should you refuse to return to your post?”

Prowl was silent for a while going over the known data he had on all parties involved.  It was always harder to run probabilities on people behavior than it was to run calculations on battle plans.  Lockdown continued his search on the frame, his digits poking and prodding to ensure nothing hid underneath. “65% Likely.”

Lockdown hummed, the odds were not in their favor.  Even if just barely. “How likely is it Jazz would throw you under the bus to capture me or you?”

“More likely to capture you than me, for Jazz.”

“You really trust him that much?” asked Lockdown.  He was shocked to hear anyone could trust someone like that after.  He had always been a loner, Prowl was the first mech he had ever put his trust into.  It somehow both felt right and terrifying at the same time. There was a lot Lockdown didn’t trust Prowl with quite yet, but so far what trust he had put into the Prowl was held dearly and carefully.  It hadn’t been broken yet.

“I trust Jazz more than I trust the target and that child you brought on board,” answered Prowl.  He still didn’t like it, he saw them becoming greater targets to the Autobots now that they had an impressionable young mecha in their grasp.

“I know,” stated Lockdown as he moved up the officers chassis and worked his way down one shoulder.  It almost a weird massage at this point, Prowl just sat and took it like a mech if only to prove a point, besides he wouldn’t put it past Lockdown to do the same thing via interface or while he was recharging.  “But I got a soft spot for kids. He ain’t done nothing wrong, can’t just leave him without a guardian. Plan is to drop him off at the closest refugee planet and get on with our lives.”

Lockdown dropped the arm he was working on moving to the opposite one.  “So that’s why you agreed to Wings terms? Half the reward and find a safe place for Drift?  You have a soft spot for sparklings?”

“Yeah,” stated Lockdown quietly as he moved down the others bicep armor and down to his forearm planeling.  “Turn over,” ordered Lockdown quietly. Prowl did as the other asked, noticing the change in demeanor. This was a side Prowl hadn’t seen before.  This mopey, sad, mech behind the sarcastic, flirty, confident, showboating Bounty Hunter. 

Since his arms had already been cleaned he crossed his arms to make a easy place to rest his helm as Lockdown searched the rest of his frame.  “So do you want kids? I know when we transported that sparkling after we got her home - I thought you were joking.”

Lockdown knew the answer, but he had to be realistic about it.  And maybe it was time for Prowl to know? After all maybe it was a deal breaker?  But then again it wasn’t like Prowl had anywhere else to go. “I think I want them,” answered Lockdown, “but things are more complicated than just wanting them.”

“More complicated?” echoed Prowl.  “You do know its really not that complicated right?  Not sure what Interface-ed was like in your time but -”

“Shut up Officer  _ friendly _ I ain’t  _ that _ old,” retorted Lockdown as he finally came to the end of the search pattern looking for any kind of tracker.  He slapped Prowls aft playfully to convey his sarcasm. “Before the war I was a Gladiator in the pits. Sparklings, heats, ruts; these were all distractions from the end goal.  These were all things that caused fighters to get distracted. They sterilized me, took out my gestation tank - probably the only thing that wasn’t glitched on me. Took my hand, my leg, my arm, my sense of touch, my ability to create.”

Prowl watched the other as he settled in beside him on the double berth.  He figured the other was done, and Prowl was able to return to his original position.  He had known very little about Lockdowns past, he was aware that he was lower caste, most that fought in the war on either side were.  Higher caste mechs were either dead - executed by rouges and criminals when the war had started or they were smart enough to get off planet once they realized the energon started turning sour on their way of life.

Prowl watched Lockdown for a while, he looked lost in thought for a while, worried even.  The officer laid a hand on Lockdowns hip. His digits resing between the rim spokes, it was one of Prowls favorite spots, being able to idly spin the tires on Lockdowns hips.  It allowed him hours of endless entertainment at Lockdowns expense. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he said nothing, sometimes it was better to say nothing.

“What about you?  You want kids?” The bounty hunter wrapped his arms around the officer pulling him close, desperate to keep Prowl close worried that he might leave knowing that Lockdown couldn’t give him something that every mecha seemed to want, crave even during the war.

“Not now,” he answered immediately.  They were in the middle of a war after all, it was no place for carriers or sparklings.

“I know not now,” answered Lockdown.  “I’m dumb but I ain’t that dumb.”

Prowl went silent for a while, thinking on how to answer, did he wan’t sparklings?  He had already raised a wellborn mecha, he regretted the way he had treated Smokescreen since he had come under his guardianship.  He had never asked for him and he took out on the kid. Would he even be a good Carrier? 

Lockdown thought about telling him never mind, but Prowl answered before he could take back the question.  “I couldn’t tell you for sure. If Sparklings happen, they happen. If not, I’ve already raised Smokescreen  I’ve done my duty to society once already.”

***

Morning had come far too early for Prowls liking, They had stayed up later than either had intended just telling each other things.  Their hopes, their dreams, if they want kids, what they did before the war, it had been a deep meaningful conversation one the two of them needed to do.  Prowl wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep but hadn’t missed the change in Lockdowns field, the painful sorrow and utter failure that radiated through it.  They had slept close, entangled together comforting each other. 

He’ll never forget the moment his systems downshifted and Lockdown must have thought he was in recharge.  His optics were closed and the mech held him tight, desperate as if Prowl might disappear. He felt the other tremble and his EM field released suddenly.  Lockdown had cried that night.

Prowl sat up, his frame sore, his optics heavy, his head hurt, and he didn’t want to leave his spot on the berth.  Prowl yawned and stretched before looking at Lockdown the mech was still deep in recharge. There wasn’t a trace of the break down he had the night before.  He smiled lightly just watching him for a while. The mech would probably sleep all day if Prowl didn’t wake him.

He laid his helm back against the wall the berth was pushed up against.  He closed his optics yawned once more before he gathered the courage to wake a possible cranky Bounty Hunter.  He returned to his laying position before his hand rested on top of the wheel on Lockdowns hip. He idly spun the tire Lockdowns systems slowly firing off one by one.  “Lockdown, time to wake up.”

The Bounty Hunter only hummed, pulled the cop into a firmer hold.  He rested his hands against the taller mechs chest, “No Lockdown, we have to get up.  We need to hand Wing over asap. You better be up in 15 minutes. I’m going to go make breakfast if Wing or Drift haven’t started it already.”

Lockdown hummed in affirmative but kept his grip on Prowl firm so he stayed.  They had bade good progress to the meeting point throughout the night, autopilot had been engaged since they left Cybertrons atmosphere.  They were to meet on a small neutral planet, some backwater colony planet, population 10.

After a well placed kiss and a short dragging of his digits across the others green plated chest Prowl was able to release himself and start his venture to the galley.  Things had changed since Prowl had been brought on board. Long gone were the days of barely healthy, barely good energon. Prowl had started cooking for the both of them and while it was slightly more expensive Lockdown had admitted he felt better.

Prowl had entered the galley to find the mechling sitting at one of the counters.  “Hello,” greeted the officer. He hadn’t expected the child to be sitting in the galley, just staring at the counter.  “You can eat the stuff in here, you know that right? You dont have to wait for me or Lockdown.”

Drift nodded to Prowl though he didn’t look at him.  Prowl found that a little odd but then again they were turning his guardian over to the DJD, he was going to die and Prowl couldn’t blame him if Drift hated the two of them for doing such a thing.  Prowl walked to the pantry taking out a sealed cube and a few spices. He returned to the counter setting the sealed cube and spices in front of the teenager.

Drift just looked up to the officer then to the sealed cube, it was obvious that Prowl wanted him to fuel up.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to accept the offer, not from one of the people who were going to turn Wing in instead of try to save him.

Prowl pulled a stool close to the counter, he sat across from the teenager, wondering how to start a conversation with him, one that probably wasn’t going to be fun.  

“What?” asked Drift starting the conversation well before Prowl even had a plan in mind.  It’s too bad tactical planning for social interactions was much slower than regular battle planning.

“You don’t like us,” answered Prowl.  

Drift was silent for a while dumbfounded by the statement.  “What gave it away Captain Obvious?”

Prowl could tell sarcasm when he saw it.  It was pretty much how Lockdown and himself flirted with one another.  “Look I know the situation you’re in isn’t exactly pleasant but it’s the best we have to offer.”

“You two are turning Wing in to the DJD.  He’s going to die and you two get a kid out of it!” shouted Drift.  Prowl was surprised he brought that up, had he heard them last night?  “I heard you guys talkin’ last night! You two can’t have kids so you’re going to off my guardian and you ain't gonna find me a good place to live either are you?”

“That’s not-”

“It’s not that simple kid,” stated Lockdown.  He had been standing outside the galley for a while listening in on the the conversation to two were having.  Even Lockdown could tell things were no going well between the two. This was something all four of them should talk about.  “Look we gotta bit of time before we need to hand Wing over to the DJD. Once he’s up we’ll all have a little chat about whats going to happen yeah?”

“No!” demanded Drift.  “I want to talk about this now!”

Prowl glanced to Lockdown, Wing might have sheltered the child to how bad the Decepticons really were.  “Okay we will, but we need you keep an open mind,” started Prowl. He glanced at Lockdown as he too approached the counter with a stool.

“Look kid, I ain’t gonna sugar coat this.  At all,” warned Lockdown. THe look on the dark bounty hunters face told every one he was serious.  Lockdown spoke with his hand, the hook too to some degree but mostly the hand. Prowl just remained silent knowing that he had a better handle on explaining the situation than Prowl did.  “The DJD, the guys that want your Guardian so bed? Their name is an acronym for Decepticon Justice Division. They have a whole list of people they’re after. Wings turn was up. They’re  _ bad _ guys.  We can’t save Wing, no one can.  If the DJD want him they’re gonna get him kid.  We do it this way then you get to live. We let you go, not only does Wing die you do too.”

He remained silent watching the white teenager.  He studied the child wondering how he was taking all this.  He felt bad that this was how it needed to be but it was a harsh reality to bring to Drifts attention.  It was possible the Drift might need a bit of ‘good cop’ to even out Lockdowns harsh reality. “We will find you a home Drift.  I have a place in mind. This ship , it’s not suited for a growing mech such as yourself, our lifestyle isn’t suited to you being a permanent part of this  _ thing _ .  I suggest you take the sealed cube and the spices and be with Wing for the remainder of the time he is with us.”

Drift glared at Prowl, Lockdown glanced to Prowl then to Drift.  “Go on kiddo, take the energon to Wing, have  _ him _ explain this to you and spend as much time with him as you can.”

Drift continued to glare even as he was excused.  Lockdown rested his helm in his good hand and tapped his hook against the counter in steady rhythm.  Once the kid was out of the galley he turned to Prowl taking the officers energon over into his space.  “You gotta place in mind for the kid? When were you goin’ to tell me?”

“Soon as you got to the Galley and we could speak privately,” answered Prowl taking his cube back.  ”Thought of it last night while we were talking. My Guardian, Yoketron, he had plenty of students, some of them went off to open their own practice halls.  Most have tried to get away from the war, he’s be safe there. He’d learn to function in society, he’s learn everything he needed, plus more. Plus there are some good paying targets on that same planet that Dai Atlas has set up on Axiom.  We can stay a while make sure Drift likes it, earn some creds and once he says he wants to stay we can move on with our lives.”

Lockdown was quiet for awhile, taking back the cube and downing half of it.  He hummed thinking it over, “couldn’t hurt, ‘specially if there are jobs out that way.  We’re gonna need the creds.”

Prowl nodded stealing his energon back and drinking the other half. “Then it’s settled we drop him off with Dai Atlas on Axiom.”

***

“Ready to look the part?” asked Lockdown stasis cuffs hanging from his hook, power screw driver in another.  “Ain’t goin’ to look real if I don’t take your mods.”

Wing nodded to Lockdown as he stood between Drift and Prowl.  “One more condition, Drift gets my mods when he’s an adult.”

Lockdown was silent for a while, “Yeah, we’ll save them for the kid.  But we’ll have to keep them till he’s an adult, we plan on taking him to a Mitalliko practice.  They won’t let him have mods there.”

Wing glanced back to Drift Prowls hand resting on the teenagers shoulder paneling.  He was sad to know he would never see his ward again. “Drift, come here.” The teenager approached his doomed guardian tears in his optics.  Wing took Drift into his embrace and hugged him tightly. “Listen Drift, I know this is hard. You’re going to blame Prowl and Lockdown, but they are doing what’s best for you.  I trust them to take care of you and take you somewhere so you can reach adulthood. Don’t be too hard on them okay?”

Wing let the smaller mech go, Drift refused to let his guardian go, he was full on sobbing now.  Wing turned to the white mech, “Prowl please take him.” Wing was aware that Drift wasn’t going to let go, especially now that he was sobbing violently.  

“Wing we gotta go, no one keeps Tarn waiting,” stated Lockdown.  He approached the other with the stasis cuffs, applying end end to his wrist once Prowl was able to get the kid pried off his guardian he’s apply the other cuff.  

Prowl eventually got the child off Wing and held him tightly against his frame.  Drift sobbed crying into Prowls frame, Prowl watched the other two as they left the safet y of the ship, leaving for Tarns meeting point.  Lockdown would return later alone, with Prowl and Drift still in the same spot the teenagers vocoder so raw he no longer makes noise as he mourns the loss of his guardian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt really bad for not updating regularly so it's not beta'd but I hope you enjoyed.


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